Dragonheart
by robdrobot
Summary: "You can't break time, but you can cheat it". Tom Riddle's blood war has led to the Wizarding World's destruction. The muggles set out an extermination program against all wizarding kind. Two people, once on each side of the war, travels back in time to change their fate. A fiery lioness protected by her dragon, the wizarding world won't know what hit them. AU. (Draco x Hermione)
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE: In Another World

It is a rare sight to see, someone like Lord Lucius Malfoy, gentle and whispering soothing loving words, cuddled to a witch. But the aristocratic haughty facade of the pureblood Lord shatters at witnessing the love of his life, his wife, Lady Narcissa Malfoy _née_ Black, looking so resigned and distraught.

A man who barely shows any weakness or emotions aside from his cool and passive facade. High and mighty, pompous and arrogant, just how the late Lord Abraxas raised him to be. The perfect persona of a pureblood nobility, never bowing down to anyone, nose turned upright always.

Yet deep in their opulent master's suite just as the sun starts to set, emotions are on full display. Narcissa Malfoy, her elegance and grace. Pristine opal robes in disarray, her shoulders trembling slightly, tears silently flowing down her pale cheeks. Pureblood customs forgotten. But how could they not, the healer said it all.

She blames herself for having a body too weak. _Defective_, just like what Grandfather Lord Pollux called her mother, for having too many daughters. Another miscarriage, and her body won't be able to take it anymore.

And he… he blames himself, because his pure blood is just that - a label. Their blood cannot produce a healthy heir. He mentally scoffs. He is not ignorant, there is a reason inbreeding is frowned upon. Wizards think themselves above muggles, but it was the latter that made the scientific discovery. More and more squibs are born these days. Witches and wizards born with weak magic, or worse mentally insane, his sister-in-law can attest to that.

That is why on the autumn night of October, Lord Lucius held his trembling wife. Being the strength that she needs, praying to any deity, that this pregnancy is not another failure.

…

Narcissa leans her head on her husbands shoulder, admiring the view in front of her. No one would believe that a man such as Lucius is capable of showing such a soft-hearted smile. She chuckles at the image, Abraxas would not be pleased with such gestures.

Lucius' love and admiration for her grows tenfold. She could not have given him a more perfect gift, his very own heir. Seeing the splatter of pale blonde hair atop his son's head, Lucius cannot be anymore proud at that moment. He looks at his wife, a bit exhausted and pale, but still glowing postpartum. He pays no head to the healers moving about and settles himself beside his wife.

"Draco" Lucius started softly. "Named after the constellation from the far northern sky".

"My little dragon" Narcissa smiles. She did not miss that he honored the black family tradition.

He vows from that day on that he would move the heavens and earth for them.

…

They did not care if their son would grow up rumbustious or loud, messy or arrogant, their son is after all someway related to one Sirius Black (besides they have house elves to clean up after). He may end up a compassionate fruit getting sorted into Hufflepuff, but they have vowed to love and care for him, to show him compassion and teach him respect and understanding. Lessons far from the traditional teachings for a proper pureblood heir of The House of Malfoy and by extension House of Black. They were both prepared to face any backlash coming from their social circles. But they hold their heads high, proud of their son no matter who he will become. They are the Lords and Lady of the Great and Noble House of Malfoy and they do not bow down to anyone, any ridicule against them and their son is a slight to the noble family that no other wizarding family wants to cross.

What they did not prepare for was this, it took them quite a bit off balance actually. They prepared for mess, for defiance, for loud cries, and even spit-ups and vomits here and there. But not this.

Lucius stares at his 5 year old son, sitting with them in the formal dining table. His mini blue robes, pristine and flattened to perfection. Not a speck in place. Using his small wizard's knife and fork, the boy carefully dices one face of his mango, the tropical fruit he brought home from his latest business trip in India. Slice, dice, picks, and then chews silently.

The couple looks at each other, a silent conversation going on, made only possible by their years of marriage. A cough disrupts their thoughts.

"I am finished with my meal father, may I pleased be excused now?" The little boy addresses him. It was like talking to his constituents from the Ministry in one of his formal business meetings. "Of course son, you are free to leave" mentally berating his self for such a curt reply.

Standing gracefully, the little boy rounds the table. "Lovely dinner as always mother, should you need me I will be in the library" he says before giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Once out of ear shot, Lucius releases an exasperated sigh. "Well, you have to admit Lu. It is quite endearing to see him act such a gentleman towards us." A tiny smirk gracing his wife's face. The term of endearment doesn't escape him. He snorts. Gentleman? Who were they kidding, it was like having dinner with the Minister. No.. that was an insult, the Minister is in no way as proper and courteous as his son.

Their son was perfect, only too-bloody-perfect. He barely cried as a toddler, made little to no mess, never made a fuss or spilled milk. Even he, who was raised by Abraxas was sure has tripped once or twice. He may have gotten a beating from it, but he would not be the graceful man that he is now. It takes such an upbringing to stand like the regal man he is. But he did vow to himself that he will not be the same man as his father, especially not to his son.

He will not admit it, but it took quite a bit of his pride, when his son, his only heir, does not even ask for his help - for anything. As a toddler, he never asked to be carried, once he knew how to walk he was set on his own way. Disappointed, Lucius was actually looking forward to teaching his son how to read, to ride his first beginners broom, to formally bow in the presence of a witch, and even tie that little bow tie on his robes. But he never got to do that. He learned early on that Draco is a very observant child, and an exceedingly fast learner. When they started reading to him as a baby, he just looked on, silently observing. Lucius thinks Draco could read lips too, but that's just absurd. He's 5 for Merlin's sake!

Narcissa reaches her husbands arm, a gesture like a supporting caress, rattling him from his reverie. She smiles at him softly, knowing exactly what's going on in his mind. They have a brilliant child, always polite, courteous, truly independent, with very impeccable manners. It would be such an endearing sight to see, if only their child was not a 5 year old boy. She mentally gripes. What concerns her more is that he never socializes with any children from their circle. Still, she could not fault her son, judging by his maturity, those children can be quite loud and messy. The only time they felt like their son was _"disobedient"_ was when they saw him one morning down at the kitchens. Trying to cook! That set the elves.

Dabbing the corners of her mouth and setting the napkin by the table. She calls to Lucius. "Shall we retire to your study?" It was more a request than a question. Helping his wife stand from her seat, he realizes that they couldn't really blame Draco for his matured demeanor. They were not really the care-free loving parents. They certainly were not the Potters, and definitely NOT the Weasleys! (He mentally spat) They are pureblood aristocrats with ingrained pureblood traits down to their very core. So it really shouldn't surprise them to see that Draco is growing up to be the perfect pureblood heir. But it wasn't just his perfect table manners or his perceptive behavior that bothers him, the boy even knows his way around social niceties (which pleases the other pureblood parents, setting the standards high for their own children). No, it was because his son was a recluse. He did not bother with making friends or have acquaintances just as a slytherin would; he did not care for materialistic indulgences, he just says a polite "_thank you, father_" every time they give him presents. He has never shown any other emotion, always polite and passive.

Pouring his self two fingers of fire whiskey on each glass, he hands one to his wife.

Narcissa perches herself in the chaise, the image of elegance and beauty. Her thoughts on her son, the quintessential Slytherin. Her son who barely gets angry, never shouted in defiance, never out of place. But it is what she has never seen in him that truly breaks her heart, she has never heard her son laugh. A true genuine laugh. Not a cry nor a snicker. Come to think of it, she never even heard him hiccup.

She envies the way that red head muggleborn carries her son in Diagon Alley, the shaggy haired boy always laughing, cuddling to his mother. The only term of endearment she ever receives from her son was the nightly chaste kiss she gets after dinner. She had to admit, it was quite sad. She needed a plan.

Lucius looks at his wife, a knowing determined look passes her face. He knows that look, and he knows when she wants it she will have it. She may have been a Black once, but a Malfoy gets what a Malfoy wants.

"Something on your mind Dear?" Lucius chuckles, her determined look turns into pure delight. He has a feeling she will ask something big from him. But how could he refuse her, didn't he just say he will move the heavens and earth for his family.

"Maybe we have outgrown Britain darling?" Addressing Lucius, taking small sips from her firewhiskey, warming her throat. "Perhaps a change of scenery is in order. They said France is quite becoming these days. Did you know they offer formal schooling for younger children? I heard whispers of this French couple who introduced the muggle educational system to their Ministry. It has become a hit apparently."

Lucius looks at his tumbler, the chandelier's light dancing on the hazel colored drink. He was deep in thought. A permanent move to another country. The Malfoys may have come from France centuries ago, but the Manor in Wiltshire has housed generations of Malfoys. This is a major decision, one that would set the fate of the Malfoy line in a different path. He was sure the move to a different country will deviate his son from attending Hogwarts, Narcissa would not like him faraway from her. True it is easy to acquire international floo connection for when he is needed in the Wizengamot or in the Ministry. He doesn't even need to be in the Malfoy Incorporated Office all the time. He can even put up a new office in France, maybe in Paris at the heart of Montmartre - the country's wizarding district. He did like walking thru the streets of Rue Girardon with his wife.

He thought about his son. Is it worth it to make such a big move? It is true the French Ministry has made noteworthy advancements in their legislations, and they do not shy away from integrating some muggle culture into the wizarding world. He has heard of this French couple, how could he not, his father has despised the audacious couple that the once paterfamilia forbid them from visiting the chateau in Bordeaux or the summer french villa in Antibes. He actually disagrees, he thinks they were quite inspirational and refreshing - something Wizarding Britain badly needs.

Maybe this is the change that they needed. What was he waiting for? His father is long beyond the veil, has been food for worms for 7 years now. He can now make bold decisions as head of the house. Finally making a decision, he smiles at his wife._ "Nous devrions rafraîchir notre français, mon cher."_

Narcissa giggles. "_Bien sûr mon cher mari." _

...

It was a nice change, the french weather a welcomed consequence. Once pale skin, now glowing compliments of the _temps magnifique_. The villa in Antibes, located in the cliffs of _La baie de Crésus_isprivate and secluded away from the muggles (_or the pas de magi as the french call them_) and moreso the _touristes embêtants. _A vineyard adjoins the villa and to its west a lodge and stable that houses the magnificent Malfoy Abraxans. In the middle a courtyard that leads to the villa's grand garden with channels that connects to the bay.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning in the middle of french summer, and Narcissa took the opportunity to take the family on a picnic in the nearby coast. It was one of the private coasts near _Crésus_, muggles tend to stay away from it due to it's long trek from the nearest fisher's village. But wizards do not bother themselves with cars or long travels.

Sitting primly on top of the red and white gingham blanket, Narcissa looks over her son. Her little dragon was reading a book. Maximillius, his new Rottweiler puppy, trying to get his attention. The black pup was a nice distraction, his son tends to be more playful with him. But they know it wasn't enough, he was still closed-off and if not sometimes withdrawn. They catch him looking out the banks of water under the cliff, solemn and deep in though. Lucius thinks the boy might jump one day. However she is not deterred. She knows her son, he may not be as expressive as the other children but she tries to interpret every tick, jaws tightened, stiff back, or even the tiny quirk of his lip. Now she can see her son seems more relaxed, more carefree, especially when he goes running with the brute dog in the morning.

She continues to read her book by french inventor Erik Stroulger, it was quite the fascinating read, the man has incorporated magic to most modern era technology by muggles. A mobile phone dose come quite handy and honestly better than those two-way mirror she secretly has with Andromeda. Not everyone can cast a _patronus_, and it's not really ideal when in the presence of muggles. She doesn't even want to mention wizarding owls or the floo. Stroulger has invented a simpler and more convenient version than its bulky muggle counterpart, does not rely on _battery_ and can call other mobiles anywhere in the world. She uses it often, more so now since Lucius occasionally floo to London. Though Lucius does despise the thing, said its gaudy and lacks novelty, but she knows he secretly loves it. She smirk, Lucius tends to be overly dramatic.

Narcissa looks up from her book and notices a distinct lack of blonde hair under the tree. Her son was not by the tree. Anxiety fills her, Draco never miss to inform them if he is leaving their presence. She feels her locket, a Malfoy heirloom given by Lucius after giving her birth to Draco, and sends a distress call to her husband. She does not detect any harm, but she's still anxious to find her son. Feeding her magic into the locket, she tries to locate the boy. She knows he is near, but she can't seem to find him.

_{Why Am I wearing a crown too?} _the little boy asks. Narcissa halts in her search, she was quite sure he sounded like he's pouting.

_{Because you're the prince!}_ another small voice said a matter-of-factly.

The mother rounds the shrub and sees her son, a small gasp escaping her mouth. There by the small clearing under the same tree. Her son, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently, a sour pout on his face. But he didn't seem angry, he looks actually amused by the little girls antics.

The girl, with most riotous curls she has ever seen, is sporting the same floral crown that barely sits on top of her was giggling while placing the offending head piece to her son. Her son who's letting another child play with him!

She was lost at what to do, here her son finally playing with a child his age! But the girl looks like a muggle. They might have come to terms that the French are more accepting towards muggles (well, more her than Lucius), but they are still partial with interacting with their kind. If her son befriends a muggle, they will have a hard time hiding their true nature. She is willing to provide anything for Draco, but they are not above the Statute of Secrecy.

_{But I am a Dragon, always am! Named after it, after all..} _Draco drawled, her son not liking the current role he's playing.

_{Nooo, right now you're the prince, and Maxi here is the dragon! Isn't that right Maxi?!"} _a cooing voice addresses the dog.

_{It's Maximillius! Do not give him a poncy nickname!}_

Suddenly, the unexpected thing happened. The girl, no a little witch, wandlessly charmed the fallen leaves into little dragon wings. The dog, excited about the small human, wags its tail and lets the girl strap the leafy wings on his back.

_{Huh, I did not take you for a damsel in distress waiting to be saved by the prince.} _Her son smirks, jesting the little witch.

_{Who said about my person being saved?} _The little girl counters, narrowed eyes hands on her hips. She is quite the bossy little thing, making Narcissa chuckle.

_{I am the mother of dragons, and we will take flight to attack your kingdom!} _Little fingers pointing accusingly at her son. Maximillius, agreeing with the witch starts barking around charging after Draco.

_{That sounds extremely familiar… Very well then!} _Then just like the witch, her son charmed some sticks to make a faux sword running after the girl. Laughing and screaming, her son finally acting like a child.

And so the two children and an overexcited dog runs around the clearing towards the beach, spraying each other with its cool water. Glassy eyed, Narcissa couldn't even be any happier than this. She finally hears a true joyful laugh from her son, not the polite chuckle she usually hears which she is so sure he does just to humour her.

Lucius joins her wife, arriving at the coast after being alerted by the distress signal. He too saw the amazing display his son was showing. Not to mention the children's ease with their magic. He tries to think of days where his son ever had a magical outburst, but he remembers none. Just small acts of levitation here and there assured him his son was no squib.

"She is a muggleborn Narcissa, she came with her parents from the sail boat on the other side of the shore" He pointed to a small white sailboat, berth at a wooden dock. Probably placed by muggles who wishes to visit the secluded area.

Narcissa looks at her husband in the eyes, searching for any signs of apprehension. But all she saw was the same soft loving look only reserved for her and their son.

Lucius may have been raised by Abraxas, but he is not the same muggle hater like his father. Living in France too has distorted his prejudiced perspective. He even introduced some of the French legislations to the Wizengamot, which earned a surprising approval from most of the 28.

There is no open oppression, no pureblood propaganda, no dark lord to cower in fear to. After Grindewald's defeat, the wizarding world is in a moments peace. There are still some purebloods who blatantly show their disgust towards half bloods, blood traitors and muggleborns, calling them scum of the earth or mudbloods. He knows the LeStrange are among those families. But to do so today is an act of social suicide, lest you want to become the social pariahs.

Thankfully they are in France now. The girl may be a _pas de magi,_ but he will be damned if someone takes his son's happiness.

"Come Love, Jilly has prepared an assortment of pâtisserie for us." The couple sits back down in their picnics, admiring the view before them. They see the children retreating back to the tree, probably for a breather.

Unbeknownst to the regal couple. Under the shade of the tree.

Draco touches Hermione's face and whispers "_M__y love_", while Hermione sighs "_M__y life_". The young ones looks of relief was not seen by the older couple.

End scene.

...

...

**AN**: Welcome to another fic. As you can notice, my fics are mostly hermione centric. Honestly it's only because I feel like she's my spirit animal. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a smart bookworm. I'm more of the girl who has sacrificed so much for one guy, only for that guy to end up with a redhead chit. I really don't understand why would JKR let Hermione save Harry multiple times, stand-up for him, become his personal owl, do his research, gets cursed and tortured, and also obliviate her parents just so she can fully join him in the hunt, ONLY for Harry to end up with Ginny. How on earth she ended up with Ron, confuses me. As for Draco, unfortunately I'm a sucker for bad guys.

Anyway here are some translations courtesy of google translate:

_~ Nous devrions rafraîchir notre français, mon cher._ (We should refresh our French, my dear.)

_~ Bien sûr mon cher mari _(Of course my dear husband)

_~ temps magnifique_ (beautiful weather)

_~ La baie de Crésus_ (Croesus Bay in representation of Billionares Bay in Antibes; the term "rich as Croesus" just means filthy rich - fits the Malfoys?)

_~ touristes embetants_ (pesky tourists)

_~ pas de magi_ (without magic)

_{Sentences written like these are in -supposedly- french. It is not my natural language therefore I don't want to keep translating them so much, french is such a beautiful language that i feel like i do it no justice when i google translate it. So let's just pretend this is french, yeah?}_

OC: Erik Stroulger - descendant from Edgar Stroulger inventor of sneakoscope.

Wizarding Facts according to HP wiki:

Montmartre is a wizarding district located in Paris, France that has a Magical Bronze Statue that is the entrance to Place Cachée.

Rue Girardon is one of the streets in the Montmartre district.

Also, I just assumed the Malfoy's has 2 French estates. One in Bordeaux and the summer villa in Antibes - where they are currently staying. 'Cause why the hell not?

So this is just the Prologue, albeit a long one. Hopefully I can post the next chapter soon. Really excited about this story and still don't know how it will go in the long run, so please bear with me!

Jusqu'à la prochaine fois!

…

_Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the plot._


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Of Choice and Consequence

"At. What. Cost?" His voice demanding, each word spat harshly.

Silver eyes boring into her hazel ones. She doesn't flinch from those stares anymore. She should be used to it by now, wasn't it the very same eyes that glared down on her since the day she helped her bumbling friend look for his toad.

She bits down her nail, a compulsive habit from her over-thinking, stress creeping in on her. But she wouldn't be The know-it-all if she doesn't over think, doesn't calculate, doesn't excessively prepare, doesn't have a contingency plan B… subsection 2.1 in the canary yellow tab labeled as 'If the ferret fucks it all up'.

He swats her hands away. Her incessant fidgeting grating on his nerves.

"Stop your stupid mumbling Granger! And answer the damn question!" He cannot help but raise his voice. Doesn't she realize the gravity of what she's saying? And she has the temerity to look affronted.

She sighs heavily, her shoulders slumping. It was not suppose to be like this, by this time they shouldn't even be acknowledging each other. They were suppose to be two people on each side of the spectrum. Him in his grand manor on his high seat ordering those poor elves around, like that blonde git she once watched from the telly. She snickers mentally, that image does suit him.

AND her, she should be… be… well something important and noble and and… SOMETHING that's for sure! With assisting Harry in the hunt, being tortured down by an overgrown whinny-with awful dental hygiene-crazy witch, then the muggles declaring the new age extermination….

"GRANGER!" She was snapped from her running thoughts. Why was she even prolonging this. It's not as if she can deny this from them, they are after all partial to the plan. Her Plan D-_dash-_8, subsection 2.3 coded with her indigo marker…. she breathes heavily, stopping her mind from going overload with her incessant thinking.

Straightening herself, eyes set hard. She looks into Draco. "Thou know 'tis common, all that lives must die. But It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves."

Fuck-a-duck. Draco blinks at the petite witch. What nonsense is she spouting now?! Has she been eating those mushrooms in the forest again? Dammit! She does know they have enough food right? Merlin, she's giving him a headache.

"Granger…" stopping to take a deep breath. His patience wearing thin now. "Can you _please _elaborate that."

"Don't you get it Draco…."

He snorts, she started pacing again. He rubs his temples, he was now sure a headache is coming.

"...Dumbledore keeps going on and on about how _Love_ is all-powerful, omnipotent and all that mumbo jumbo. But Love is not _just_ that… Oh don't look at me like that!

Love is a powerful emotion, it drives sane men crazy, it is a force that let mothers protect their children, it compels so deeply you'd risk or give your life…" She catches her breath, and stop her pacing.

"Do you remember the day Ron pointed his wand at you?"

"When did he ever NOT point his wand at me?" He snarked. She held her hand up to stop his usual Weasley tirade.

"Don't interrupt me.. As I was saying. That day, when he tried to hex you with the slug-vomiting charm." He remained silent, looking at her meaningfully, willing her to continue. Merlin, this witch can really tests his patience. "Well.. if you recall he never really did say the charm. It was all intent." Drawling the last sentence. He still doesn't know where she's going with this but he has a feeling he won't like it.

"If a person's love is so powerful, so pure and strong. Then, can it not also be the best force to project the spell?" She looks at him now, soft eyes full of apprehension and guilt "Sacrificing a life is not enough… You cannot cast a killing curse without hate, a horcrux cannot be made without evil intent, a patronus does not materialize without pure happiness" She breathes slowly.

"For it to work Draco, the one to cast should have just as much conviction as true and pure as _love_."

…

It has been 16 years since the battle of Hogwarts. 16 yrs since Voldemort died in the hands of the boy who lived _no-more_ in their final duel. Death welcoming them at the veil.

Muggle Britain has been the first to learn about the Wizarding world. It was inevitable. If not for the Deatheater's revolting revels in the suburbs then the collapse of the Millennium bridge is a dead give away.

Magic was heralded deadly and archaic. It was too late when the Magical community realized that maybe it was not a good idea to anger 6 billion species. Species who are hell bent on revenge and retribution. When the wizards thought they were Columbus and they can conquer their way into the _New World_ with their fancy sticks and flashy robes, they were doomed to find out that unfortunately they were the Indians - the indigenous, inbred and barbaric. The pureblood's _Old Ways_ were no match when a troop of soldiers rein their bullets on Magical communities, blasting thru every wards and concealment. When with a single button their weapons can annihilate a city leaving only a crater on it's wake. Magic be damned, not even the oceans were safe. 21st century witch trials executed every witch and wizard. Every magical child or adult killed on sight by muggle militia.

The Muggle technology developed a way to locate and effectively exterminate wizards thru the assistance of muggleborns 4 years after the Second Wizarding War, eliminating most purebloods and half bloods. Only to realize that they were just pawns, a means to an end. The lot of them are ignoramus' who just exploited more of our secrets.

After that, muggles' next target were the muggleborns. Said they were irredeemable, pagan worshipers, unholy, evil incarnate. They used their religion to drive us out, to remove us of our rights. They created stories, propagandas, purge us through exorcism. Only this time, there was no holy water or a man stretched-out in a wooden cross. Their technology prove that they are the mighty, the undefeatable, the invincible. The Champion's of the Messiah, ridding the world of its evil.

And nothing unites centuries of territorial division like a common enemy. So much for world peace.

…

Deep in the forest of Romania, a red haired man emerges from a decrepit cabin. Holding two glasses of fire whiskey.

"It has to be you mate. Between us, I'm just the dragon tamer while you're the real dragon here." Charlie says.

"You're the one she loves.. i don't think..." the pale man said, sitting on a log in the edge of their wards.

"That's what she's there for... to think you know. She. Is. The. Brains. Besides, you know that's not true" the ginger states.

"I know" a sigh escaping his lips. "We wouldn't be here if it weren't for her...I just… I can't.." Draco drowns the impending emotion with a long swig of whiskey, grimacing as he feels the burn down his throat.

"We can't do this to you Charlie. You don't deserve this." He chokes, barely concealing the sadness in his voice.

Charlie just looks out at the horizon, watching the sun set. Hues of red, orange, and purple. It is nice to think that despite their predicament, the world is still beautiful, the sun still rise in the morning, the river still flows, their is still life even after so many death.

After their silent moment, Charlie stands. Glass empty, he dust off some dirt from his pants.

"Come mate, let us go help her out before she unpacks and pack that thrifty bag of hers the millionth time. Can't have her library spilling out off that bag now can we?" Charlie cheekily said. The two share a chuckle, both men standing, looking back at the hut.

There they see a silhouette by the window, a woman with distinguishable set of curly hair.

"She's just scared." Draco sighs. "Tired and scared. Like you and me. She's had enough of all the death and sacrifices. She doesn't want to bury anyone anymore." He said, his blonde hair taking a darker hue underneath the sunset.

They walk back in silence, but before the blonde could reach the door, Charlie stops him.

"I see the way you look at her Draco, it's the same way my brother used to look at her."

"Merlin please don't compare me to that weasel" feeling insulted, he mock glared at Charlie.

But Charlie doesn't take offense and just chortled. "It's Weasley to you ferret!"

"Will you two stop bickering, and go do something more productive! Merlin knows I do all the work here and you two go drinking!" Hermione sermons, chastising the two grown men like bunch of 5 year old brats.

Draco enters the threshold and walks pass her, an annoying smirk on his face. "Let me cook the dinner tonight, can't give dragon tamer over hear your burnt meatloafs."

"I do not burn my meatloafs Malfoy! They're just overly cooked." Insulted, she crosses her arms, a pout on her lips. However, Draco just walks away, grumbling about burnt raw food all the time.

"You look at him that way too you know." Charlie said softly, watching Hermione with amusement in his eyes.

"Charlie..."

"Just do me a favor Herms." the curly haired witch scowls, never liking the given name "After all this…" Charlie gestures to no where "…please, please, please go get your self checked. You seem to have a knack for guys who bully you a lot." Charlie said teasingly, wiggling his brows at her.

"Ron was not a bully Charlie." She said exasperatedly.

"Yeah yeah.. call it pull your pigtails or whatever, you have bad taste in men." Charlie rolls his eyes. Merlin, you would think Hermione is not like every other witch. But she falls for the '_I am awful to you, therefore I like you_' type of boys. He couldn't decide if she was sadistic or stupid.

"And you would know what a good man looks?" She raises an eyebrow at him. Their banter amusing her, oblivious to his musings.

"You're standing right in front of him love!" Charlie said with a smug smirk, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Hermione looks at the man before him. Shorter than most of his brothers, with darker red hair too. He lacks the trademark freckles that seem to favor most of his family. But those eyes, the very same blue eyes that used to look at her before. Before a green light hit that man right on his back, preventing Hermione from receiving the end of a killing curse from Dolohov.

She remembers it clearly, running towards the battlefield after emerging from the chamber. Too distracted from seeing the body of young Colin, just a boy who wanted to capture the moment with a click of his camera, now unmoving like a muggle photograph.

"_Come __to __join your friends you filthy mudblood__?_" Dolohov emerges from the shadows and did not hesitate to throw the killing curse at her. But before she could even react, Ron -_her fun, brave Ron_\- steps in front of her. Collapsing as he receive the sickly green spell for her, barely catching him right after she throws a blood evaporating curse at the deatheater. A curse of her own making. The couple falls to the floor. She tried to catch him, placing his head on her lap. She ignored the dying screams of a deranged man, the load explosions from the battle, and the rumblings of the castle stone walls not far from her. All she could do was cry out to him. Chanting over and over again, '_N__o__,__ no__,__ no__, Ron_!' and '_Y__ou can__'__t do this to me __R__on!__'_ Not caring that he couldn't hear her anymore. She just keeps on shaking him, her heart breaking seeing those blue eyes once full of life now clear and dull.

She was pulled out from her reverie by Charlie pulling her inside the cabin.

"Come Love, lets go eat ferrets divine cooking.

Can't have the ponce think were ungrateful plebeian commoners here."

Chuckling they make their way to the dining area. Setting up the table with a flick of their wrists.

…

After the war there was nothing much to rebuild. You cannot rebuild a school when there are no students, you cannot pave the streets with only sticks and stones. There was no more purpose, no more hope. They were all shattered by a mad man with father issues.

Because there are no winners in a war, only survivors. And the remaining few, scattered, lost at what to do. When the muggles decided that they are not the lesser creature the magicals claim, the purebloods and most halfbloods had no where to hide. The muggles demanded for justice and blood. An eye for an eye, they said.

Magical creatures of all kinds wiped out, others experimented. They cut them up like frogs on a tray, body parts in formalin filled jars. Some were put in zoos, confined in rotting containment. Caged, they were forced to be entertainments like clowns in a circus.

When the muggles found out about wands. They torched all magical tress to the ground. They searched for all kinds of magical objects and artifacts. Like pirates on a treasure hunt. But instead of claiming riches, they were only destroyed. Charred remains buried deep in the belows of the Arctic inside their man-made metal caves, never to be seen again.

And those that remain, are but shadows of the past. They do not call themselves survivors. There was nothing to do but to hide, to camouflage, to pretend.

5 years after the magical purge. The only ones left from the light side were Hermione, Remus, and what remained of the Weasley Family- Arthur, Charlie and Ginny. They came across the Greengrass sisters together with Draco in a small wizarding village in the beautiful city of Spain. Daphne explained that they've been staying there since Blaise, her fiance, illegally migrates them from Great Britain; unfortunately at the end he was killed at a cross fire before the group could even portkey to Catalonia, Spain.

From there, the two groups lived ... somewhat peacefully, surviving from what was left of them. Barely interacting with each other. Until one full moon a group of ragtag muggles were mauled by Moony after a failed wolfsbane potion due to lack of ingredients.

He was killed instantly by silver bullets. Ginny who was assigned to brew at that time, not being able to take another loss and grief kills herself with a poison. Leaving Arthur devastatingly anguished and charge head first to the nearest muggle village with his late-wife's trademark _B__ombarda__. _ The muggles fired their new vicious assault rifles with electro-bullets, very similar to a _Crucio - _just, this one has no counter curse.

A week later, the small wizarding village was exposed and burned to the ground. Only Charlie, Draco, Hermione, and a bleeding Astoria escaped the muggle version of fiendfyre flamethrowers and molotovs that burned down the village. Running pass the anti-apparition wards sent by modified tanks capable of creating shield domes to prevent magicals from escaping, they arrived at the former dragon reserve. But Astoria died from the blood curse and her injuries did not even make pass Zurich before arriving at Romania.

From then on the three lived in the center of the Nera Forest. For two years the new trio planted their own herbs, hunted for animals and fished in the near river. Not really living, just enduring their fate day after day. Until one day Hermione apparates somewhere, sending the 2 boys in a state of panic. Not knowing where she is and unable to locate her. But then she comes back one evening looking all disheveled. Walking calmly to the kitchen and start cooking that god awful meatloaf they hate.

And midway chopping vegetables Draco had to break the antsy silence.

"Where the fuck have you been Granger!" Frenzied eyes glaring at her. Gone the aristocratic cool facade he has.

"I went to get books." She said airily. Draco glares at her, asking for more explanation.

"I am driving crazy here you know! I just needed books that I have not read so damn much! It's like nothing surprises me anymore!" she wails.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Draco sighed tiredly.

"You go out there, risking your life… and for what? BOOKS?! Merlin knows the know-it-all need more books!" Hermione narrows her eyes at him, he could barely contain his anger. She is a bibliophile, a reader. She cannot help it if she really has to know it all. She is making progress in her new research, albeit she had ended up with many failed research lately. But she feels the need for analysis, to probe deeper, explore all the possibilities. How could she do that without new books.

Charlie lowers the fire in the oven lest they want another burnt meatloaf. He knew he had to butt in the growing tension.

"So… What books did you get anyway that has you missing for three days love?" making his voice sweeter to avoid the curly haired witch's ire.

Hermione beams at him and said offhandedly. "Oh just took all the books from your manor" She ceased her dicing, pointing the cutting knife at the blonde git. "Apparated somewhere near the ministry, went down to the Department of Mysteries to get more books…"

"Ooh, what's down there?" Charlie interrupted, acting as though he's not faced by her brash adventure.

"Well it's a mystery, _obviously._ And a bunch of research. Then I tried going back to Hogwarts…"

"WHAT?!" two simultaneous voices shouted.

"...though it was really sad to see it still in ruins but on the other hand it's still undetectable by muggles! AND the chamber is just wide open so i went pass the ruins to salvage Salazar's tomes!" She pause, trying to catch her breath before going on again.

"Oh and I passed by Knockturn alley for some potions ingredients. Did you know that Borgin is still alive? Well as the saying goes, _mala hierba nunca muere!"_

She started humming and continues to chop her veggies. She may not be able to cook a decent meal but she can dice perfect cubes of carrots.

The two men looked at her like she had grown three heads and breathes out fire.

...

So from there begins another 5 years for the Trio. Endless hours of researching ancient blood rites, dragonlore, and runecrafting. They started training their bodies and mind thru meditations and grueling exercises. They created spells, invented potions, perfected their wandless magic, warding, solved probabilites thru arithmancy. And when they have exhausted all their magic, they turned their training to the arts of self-defense. They danced with swords, taught themselves to hunt with arrows, played with muggle weapons.

They had to be agile, fast, alert. They had to be prepared. Failure was not an option for their last and only plan, _THE_ plan, the end game, the finale. There were no contingencies, no going back. It was a plan of either do or die.

A plan only a true Gryffindor can do.

That one Thursday morning when Draco sits next to a disgruntled Hermione after another botched spell, he asks. '_W__hy dont we just giveup?__'. _Making her look at him straight in his eyes. Feeling as if those big brown orbs can see right through his soul. She then said, _'We have nothing to loose Draco. If the world will bring us down I'm taking it down with me__.' _From then on, Draco decided he was also a gryffin.

And so here there are. Dinner plates empty and forgotten. Standing in a clearing outside the cabin. Runes crafted into spell circles. Hermione holding onto her trusted beaded bag, the one her mother gifted her on her 15th birthday, once used to carry Harry and Ron's things on their search for the hollows.

Now she stands before two boys, no men, very different from her first friends. Men she has come to know more than her former best friends. Men she loves more, who she would do anything for.

With the moon high above their heads. All three of them in their respective places. Three Rune circles inscribed on the ground. A large circle in the middle symbolizing a dragon's heart, the runes of ZOI swirls on its edge. Then two smaller circles on each sides representing the dragon's wings.

Draco stands in the right circle facing the eastern hemisphere. His circle is emblazoned with the runes of Fotiá, provider of light and fire, just like the sun that rises in the east. Hermione takes her place too, in the left circle, oriented to the western hemisphere. The runes of Chrónos inscribed from the sands of time, her old time turner making its last use.

Charlie walks to the middle of the large circle, just above the enchanted runes of ZOI. He looks at Draco and nods at him, then to Hermione. Holding a dragonbone dagger above his right hand. He slices his palm, then chants a spells.

'_Kápste tis kordéles pou kathorízoun ti moíra mas, proothíste tin agápi pou sas díno sti diáthesí sas. Afíste ti moíra na kaíei me tin epithymía tis kardiás mou_'

Draco's runes begins to glow like fire on a hearth. Then Charlie slices his other palm, saying the next spell for Hermione. Her rune circle in a mesmerizing emerald glow, nothing like the sickly color of an Avada Kedavra or the fires of the floo.

_'To aíma mou gia na dóso kai to teleftaío kardiá mou ktýpise. Mia zoí gia na rythmísete ta chéria tou chrónou.'_

Charlie takes one last look at Draco, then at Hermione. A lone tear escaping his eye. He thrusts the blade into his heart, sealing the spell.

Then fire engulfs him, giving the runes its final jolt, creating a portal for the two travelers. Hurtling them back to the time and place where everything is as they were. Where the secrecy of Wizarding World has not been compromised, muggleborns are still ostracized, werewolfs are abominations and purebloods reign with their inbred arses.

All was right, as right as they could be in the winter night of 1945, where the lay lines are seamed to the Drákon constellation. All was right, an old wizard has won a wand's allegiance but lost a friend, and somewhere in a castle a boy is hissing close to a chambers entrance. All was right, except for two people being birth by fire in the middle of forest. Grey eyes meets hazel ones. One said "my love" and the other "my life".

End Scene.

...

...

**AN:** Disclaimer, obviously I am not JKR. It was a long Chapter 1 and I am a bit chuffed. So the next chapter might take a bit longer to finish.

For those of you who might get confused with the timeline before the couple's jump to the past. Here's a quick review:

Final Battle (1998)

British muggle we're the first to know about wizards

4 years after, muggles invented weapons against magic

A sudden reunion, then 5 years of quiet living in Spain

First 2 years of the new trio in Romania

Finally, the last 5 years of extensive research and planning for the time jump. (2014)

= 16 years of what should have been a slow burn that I happily squeezed into 1 chapter.

I did quote Shakespeare somewhere up there, good for you if you recognize it.

And here are some translations, courtesy of google translate:

_mala hierba nunca muere _(Spanish term for 'a bad weed never dies')

The enchanted spell is in Greek. It was too cheesy and cringey for me, so it's up to you to translate it OR you can just pretend it's one awesome mumble jumble.

...

Jusqu'à la prochaine fois!


	3. Interlude

**Interlude**

_'Mustard… where's the mustard'_

Charlie Weasley was looking around the kitchen for the 'glorious gold' as he once called it to compliment his masterpiece. Ok, it's just a good ol' BLT, but he was pretty pleased with it. Hermione may cook unsavory meals from time to time, but he once served burnt salad. The two may have been kind enough to not say anything, but they also forbid him to come near the kitchen for meals. So he has every right to feel smug about his sandwich. Besides he's only serving himself, so no harm done.

Whistling while adding his finishing touches, he grabs a drink from the cold box and head to the living room. These sparkly _sodas_ are just too sweet for him but he guess it will do. Sometimes he miss pumpkin juice.

"What did I miss?" He ungracefully flops down beside the witch. Her curls are a little bit more bushier than the usual and she's wearing one of her worn out pajamas, but who cares it's 'movie night'. They were watching some game show about chairs, or was it sofas. Charlie doesn't know. Muggles can really think of the funniest things, people killing each other over a chair he doesn't get, but there were dragons in the show so he guess it's alright.

Besides, Hermione once explained to him it's only a _fantasy, _not real, just fake, a make-believe. Which another thing he doesn't get because dragons are _very_ real. Hmph, maybe not anymore, those muggles decided that Dragons are too dangerous and cannot be tamed. Their programmed Jets took flight to chase down those glorious beasts and sends their target missiles on them. One by one they fall. Beautiful, magnificent creatures. Killed for doing what they were born to do.

"Hey, it's just a show. You didn't miss anything..." Hermione touches Charlie's darkening face, her voice soft. Merlin, he could look really scary sometimes. At least he doesn't blow his top off when she starts watching without him, unlike some blonde git.

"What? Oh.. yeah.. So what is this Karen girl doing with that whip? That's quite kinky, eh?" Charlie waggles his brows at her, his eyes full of mirth.

"It's Kha-lee-si" She pronounces deliberately. "Apparently, she's gaining control over the Valyrian Army in exchange for the dragon. That's the small flying lizard over there…" She points towards the telly.

"I know.. what a dragon.. looks like Hermione!" He said in-between chewing. Hermione pulled a face at his lack of manners. Apparently, Ron got that nasty habit from somewhere.

"I mean look at that!" watching the scene before him. "Dragonlings cannot produce that much fire, at least not enough to burn thru the man thoroughly. That's why the new recruits were assigned to the youngling's thrall in the reserve. They're easier to manage without them burning your arse off..."

_'Ugh!' _Hermione is getting irritated. She forgot Charlie is one of _those_ guys. Can't she just watch in peace and not listen to some dragon tales! She's having a harder time tuning him out, god dammit she needed this break! Her research has reached another dead end, and she just wanted to relax and watch some CGI dragon burn a bald man.

"... besides, a dragon's fire is magical. It is a magical creature after all. A younger dragon should accept the mother's or any elder dragon's conjuration of _ignis vitae_. That's why it's dangerous to raise a dragon alone, not to mention the transition will be painful for the young one. Like Norbert, you remember him do you? Oh you were quite the small thing too…"

Hermione freezes. Her brain working overload, memories flashing back at her.

…

_First year Hermione in Charms class, listening to Professor Flitwick teaching. "The _Incendio _is a Fire-Making Charm that conjures fire. A very useful spell, can be used in lighting a floo or warming up your food. However, it can also be harmful… Yes Ms. Granger?"_

_"Sir, you said it's a conjuration spell? Does it mean you are summoning the fire from somewhere?"_

_"Why yes, Ms. Granger. Any magical fire conjured by a magical creature comes from the _ignis vitae_ or the fire of life. Very astute observation, 5 points to Gryffindor!"_

_… _

_Hermione reads a passage on one of her heavy tomes in the library. She's researching a way to contain non-combustive flame in a jar so that she can read at night without burning her sheets. _

_~ It was said that Prometheus defied the Gods.__  
__He kindled the eternal fire and breathe life on his molded clay, thus creating man.__  
__He was the thief of fire. Provider of flames to the humanity, to progress their civilization.__  
__However, not known to many, Prometheus stole the fire from Hephaestus. __  
__The fire he was suppose to give to Hecate for helping him claim Aphrodite. _

_Hecate sees this as an act of treachery. __Man did not pray to the Gods anymore. __  
__They__ became ungrateful and arrogant. They started to destroy, to defile. __  
__Their beautiful creatures and creations were corrupted or slayed. __  
__So she sends her children, her creations to teach the barbarians. __  
__Her magic, her fire imbued their very core.~ _

_She slams the book shut, that was not very helpful. Informative, but not helpful. Grabbing the 3__rd__ grade Books of Spells, she looks into the conjuration of cold blue fire. Hmm.. they look like blue bells._

_…_

_"I bet it would be wicked to have those dragons fire thru these couldrons, can't these potions go any faster?" She thinks Ron whines all the time. __  
__  
__"You shouldn't make light of that Ronald! Harry has already got his wand in knots with the first task!" _

_"Geez Hermione! I was just joking about the dragons…"_

_"Dragon Fire may incinerate you to your very bones Mr. Weasley, but I do not suggest using it for potions making lest you want its magic to make your ingredients volatile. We don't want our potion's attacking us! 10 points from Gryffindor! It seems the work is not enough for you Mr. Weasley…" Hermione always wonder why Ron can't keep his trap shut during Snape's class. _

_…_

_"What's that you got there?" Ron asks Harry, mouth full of chocolate. Hermione just sits in the corner, reading a muggle novel. The train's movement lulling her a bit to sleep._

_"Oh it's a Phoenix! Like Fawkes." Harry shows his card to Ron. This is how they should be, the three of them alone in their compartment. Him and Ron swapping chocolate frog cards and Hermione... Harry glances at his friend and smiles. Well Hermione certainly is being Hermione. He continued to read his card, "A gentle creature, the phoenix lives to an immense age because it can regenerate each time it bursts into flames. Phoenix song is magical and its tears have healing properties- quite true, it did heal me back in first year!"_

_"Blimey I almost forgot about that!" _

_"Yes, you forgot about the tree-headed dog, a plant suffocating you, being struck-down by a life-sized chess piece, and Harry getting attacked by Voldemort, all in our first year" Hermione gripes, suddenly awake. Atleast Ron had the audacity to look sheepish._

_"Good thing there's no such spell to be reborn again from an eternal flame. Or else we would have a harder time with Voldemort" Harry said, the three not anymore bothered by the name. _

_"Forget about that, who wants to be reborn again if you just end up as a baby. Geez no thanks! Have you seen my mum with babies?" Ron grimaced, and the boys continued in their card swapping. Hermione tuned them out and let sleep consume her. _

_…_

_It was not a normal fire. As they turned a corner the flames chased them as though they were alive, sentient, intent upon killing them. They land roughly just outside the Room, coughing and catching their breath._

_"That was like being chased by the Dragon in the tournament again…" Harry coughs. _

_"That was not an ordinary fire Harry, that was fiendfyre. It is a dark curse that is conjured to follow you and kill you." Hermione said, dusting off her charred pants. "Yeah, like what I said, the dragon. Back then, its fire tried to…"_

_"Vince… It killed Vince" another voice choked. The pudgy boy's friend fell to his death, devoured by the fire of his own making. Horror and disbelief etched on Greg's face._

_"He deserved it! He tried to kill us!" _

_"Ron! Not now!" Hermione thought no one deserves such death. _

_…_

"Oh. My. God!"

Hermione jumps off the couch, drops her half-eaten chocolate croissant and runs out the door. Not even glancing at Draco when he entered the living room.

"What is wrong with her, where is she going?" Draco grumbles, looking at the other occupant of the sofa. He narrowed his eyes at Charlie. "What the fuck Charlie! Did you eat my croissants again?!"

Charlie just blinks.

…

_"For it to work Draco, the one to cast should have just as much conviction as true and pure as love."_

Hermione looks at Draco. Seeing his face pass different emotions as he starts to realize the gravity of what she's saying. Confusion, apprehension, understanding, and finally horror.

"No! I can't do that! Are you telling me, that my fire is not enough to propel the spell?!" He was shouting now. He can never really control his anger.

"Draco…"

"And pray tell Hermione, who do you wish to sacrifice for the spell to work?!"

Hermione slumps down on her chair. Can't he see that this was hard enough for her too! He didn't have to sound so disparaging. She found a way to fix things. But the spell is too complex, it needs a life source. Another sacrifice…

"I'll do it." Charlie walks out from the shadows, his hands in his pocket. His voice was determined, making it sound like there was no room for argument. He knows he will have a hard time to join them in Hermione's crazy plan, what with his right leg missing, face and body marred with old scars and burns. He knows he is also suffering from a deteriorating sickness, but he didn't have to tell them that. He couldn't say that to Hermione. Him and Draco might not be the two boys of her choice but they were all she's got. And if she finds out he's sick, she wouldn't be able to take another heart ache anymore. Not now when she's so driven to fix their fate.

But Charlie was more than ready to join his family.

…

Standing in the middle of his rune circle, he takes a deep breath. Both hands now bloodied, he tries to steady them before he gives the dagger its final thrust, his last step to seal the spell. Charlie nods at Draco. It was more a nod of forgiveness than a signal to carry on.

Draco faces the man before him, his friend and confidant. Their eyes conveying each others' emotions. He lets an old family curse take over him, his body changing into a new form. Scales, claws, wings and a nuzzle. He braces himself as he breathes out fire. His fire magical, sentient, alive, and powerful. And as silver eyes bore down to the man being engulfed by his flames, a tear escapes.

End Scene

...

...

**AN**:So here's a short Interlude with bits of scenes that can explain or give you a clue as to what Hermione's time travel spell and ritual needs. Also explains why she suddenly left the boys and was gone for three days to find books. Yes, Draco is a dragon. Wasn't I mentioning that since the prologue? But no, he's not an animagus in a dragon form. And I'm so sorry Charlie had to die.

The Greek God story was created for the purpose of this fic. Some of it was a fabricated lie to fit the story.

Jusqu'à la prochaine fois!

…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything just the plot. I try to upload everyday, but I'm only human.


	4. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Birth of a Dragon

The loud thunder could not compare to the great roars of the dragons in the reserve. It reverberated thru the whole forest, with their deep grumblings and loud roars.

Thermin Frohe knows these bellowing roars, it's the same roar the dragons cry out every time an egg hatches and a baby dragon peaks out it's tiny nozzle, with its small wings spread out for the first time. It is a way of welcoming the new brood in the thrall. But these roars perplex him, even with his 10 years of experience in the Romanian Dragon Reserve, and the 7 before that at Guàiwù fēi dì under the tutelage of Master Yìng Longwàng.

The dragons spread out their wings, a show of might and glory. Even the dragonlings cry for joy, excited about the new brood. It perplexes him and his team of wranglers because there were no new hatchlings today. No mother has even birth a new egg, in two years!

Looks like he's working overtime again, he just hope his dear darling wife let him sleep in their bed when he comes home tonight.

...

A slow gust of wind and a change in atmosphere signify their arrival.

"Looks like the dragons are aware of your arrival Malfoy." Hermione said, trying to sound condescending but really she just sounded like a drowned cat. Brushing her sticky hair away from her face, she tries to stand but fails miserably. She keeps mumbling incoherent curses under her voice while she slips repeatedly from the moist mud. She's more graceful than this, but being cruelly thrown back in time makes her quite queasy and clumsy.

Heaving and groaning, unpleasant noises comes out of her. Her whole body was aching, this does not even compare to apparition or international portkey. It's like being stretched-out over and over like taffy on a pulling-machine. It was painful, her head was throbbing, her mouth has gone dry. Shaking like a leaf, she tries to orient herself, only to slip again after trying to stand up. Until big pale arms catches her falling form.

"Graceful as always Hermione." Draco smirks at her pitiful look. The witch just glowers at the blonde. A crack of lightning illuminates her face making her resemble a fiery lioness, making Draco blink twice.

"And you should avoid calling me that.. " Draco says softly, trying to seem unfazed by her intimidating mood. He holds her up firmly, balancing her falling form.

Hermione closes her eyes and took deep breaths. She hate feeling disoriented, it makes her feel out of control and she hates not being in control especially of her own body. She opened her eyes and tilts her head upwards, making her stare at those steely silver eyes. Eyes that used to infuriate her but now calms her.

"We should change your hair Draco" She said while flicking his fringe away from his face. Draco raises an eyebrow at her. "You're seriously thinking about my hair? You should see _your hair_!" Staring at her incredulously.

The offended witch cannot help but sneer. "I'm not the one with the striking pale _M__alfoy hair_! Besides.. my hair is not THAT bushy anymore" she sniffs.

Which he knows is right, she is definitely not the same bushy haired bucktooth girl back at Hogwarts. No, she's a woman now, beautiful, stunning, angelic. He knows those curls cascading down her back are soft, just like the first time he stroke it when she cried in his arms the day her red-head friend poisoned herself. Soft, just like those red plump lips that used to blow hot soup when she was feeding him after splinching both his arms in the jump across countries. And her soft silky touch, with those ink covered fingers, while she spreads dittany on his brow bone. Her soft skin with splatters of freckle, from her button nose down to her long slender neck. Sometimes he just wants to trace it with his….

*snap snap snap*

"Earth to Draco! You're staring at me like a baby to a candy" Well she certainly look sweet enough to lick.

Merlin he has it bad. He smirks at his thoughts, "Come on, lets ward the place and set camp."

...

Albus Dumbledore. A revered hero, grand sorcerer, awarded Order of Merlin-first class. However despite the badges of honor, he feels nothing but. A charming smile plastered on his face as he shakes the hand of Minister Wilhelmina Tuft. The bright flashes of the camera disorients him. Its sparks and flashes blinds his vision. Bright flashes like the beams of light that came out of his wand when when he dueled Gellert Grindelwald. He squint his eyes hard, trying to remove the black spots his eyes were seeing.

"It has been an honor, Minister…" He started, trying to get the Minister's attention.

"An honor? Oh no, Mr. Dumbledore the honor is all ours. You have single-handedly defeated Grindelwald, brought him down for his crimes. You sir is the _hero_ of the Wizarding World!" praised the Minister. Her voice reverberated the walls, making sure her praises are heard by the crowd, a political move to make her look in the good graces of the remarkable wizard before her. But Dumbledore is not deluded to her charms and petty praises. This was the same ministry who wanted him to solve the problem alone. Yet when he worked against the propaganda of a mad man, he was ridiculed, every movement and spell casted was tracked and limited.

He also knows that once upon-a-time, those propagandas were his vision too. _For the greater good. _He smiles in front of the crowd despite the burning guilt that has been eating him up.

"Yes, yes Minister. I am truly grateful. Unfortunately I must soon retire for the evening. I am still employed by Headmaster Dippet and I don't think he could take another day covering my lessons for me."

"Ofcourse, who else will teach those children how to turn their cups into rats." Dumbledore just ignored the jibe.

Pleasantries exchanged, he flood back to his office. He did not miss the look of disdain from some of the pureblood members of the Wizengamot. '_Probably Gellert's supporters', _he thought.

He sighs heavily. What good is there when you just defeated a man but not his ideology.

…

"Albus?"

"In here, Minerva." Minerva McGonagall looks at her mentor. It must have been a tiring event, she notices the dark bags under his eyes and he seemed to have more gray hair than at the beginning of the year.

"Would you like me to prepare a cuppa? Or probably something stronger?"

"Something stronger would be appropriate" He smiles at his good friend. Once his student, now his colleague.

Albus shakes off his coat and hang it on the rack. He sits heavily on his chair, his favorite - a battered brown and purple leather armchair complete with a garish yellow damask appliqué. Minerva thinks it's quite gaudy, but it wouldn't be Dumbledore's if it's not a little kooky. She hands a decanter to him, another in her hand.

A harsh cough disrupts their silence. "Goodness Minerva.. this is… quite the whiskey" He said in between coughs. The drink is really _something._

"It's a Jamesons, my old mans favorite." She said with pride, her brogue accent coming out.

"Muggle?"

"Aye. You can't deny, they do make the best liquor." She makes another sour face after a swig. But she couldn't help it, the drink makes for a fine companion in nights like these.

"Right… Maybe I'll just settle for a good ol' cuppa." He starts to wobble a little, standing up abruptly does not go well with with the hazel liquid. "No, forget that. I think I just need a good rest."

"Of course Albus. If you need anything, my door is always open." She squeezes his shoulders before she heads out his office.

Albus walks back to his chair and lets the warmth of the fireplace envelop him. He looks unseeingly into the crackles of the fire. Deep in thought and full of guilt. He takes out a wand from his pocket. A powerful wand capable of great feats of magic. One of the three objects that make up the fabled Deathly Hollows. Once in possession by Lord Antioch Peverell, it's first master, and was lastly held by Gellert Grindewald. To acquire it's loyalty you must defeat it's former master. It was a wand with a bloody history.

Stroking it with such gentle care, he could feel the reverberating spark of power. He fiddles with with the dark elder wood, looking closely at it's engraved details. He starts to wonder if he can be the master of the wand, for only a wizard who is capable of accepting death can do so, since only by them can a Thestral hair be seen. Maybe it was time to have a talk with a certain old family friend.

Pocketing the wand he walks towards his chamber, dreading the impending nightmare he knows he will have.

…

Hermione drops both her arms to her sides. She was finish with setting up their tent. Her shoulders slumped, her fatigue wearing her out. She looks towards Draco, still putting up the enchantments and wards.

"Did he tell you?" Her voice devoid of emotions as she looks down on the ground avoiding his piercing stare.

"I had my assumptions. He was getting weaker as each day pass by… He told me not to tell you Hermione." Draco said guiltily. He knows she hates being kept in the dark, but Charlie didn't want her to find out. The man didn't want her to deviate from her research. She couldn't continue refining her research on temporal transmutation while working a cure on a bone-degenerating curse.

Draco walks over to the witch, hugging her from behind. She instinctively melts into him, his warm touch making her crumble, tears threatening to fall. "He said, he doesn't regret anything. That despite his predicament, he would still make the same choice. He loved you Hermione, and he believes in you… We both do. If anyone can do this, it's you."

Hermione turns to face Draco, burying her face in his chest as she clings to him. Draco holds her tightly, letting her cry out her emotions.

"You need to rest, planning and plotting can start tomorrow" He said as he carries her inside their make shift tent.

"I'm glad it's you who I'm with Draco." Her voice a whisper as she snuggles closer to him, letting sleep take over.

…

Hogwarts was full of energy. Some students are making their last minute packing, others are in the great hall taking their breakfasts talking animatedly with their friends. There were students at the courtyard basking in the dawn of the approaching summer, while others are by the lake throwing their toasts at the giant squid.

Then there was a young boy, sitting in his usual spot in the luxurious common room. The light from the black lake gives an eerily glow to the velvet, leather and rich wood furniture. He sneers at his housemates, their chatting and banter grating on his nerves. The aura around him was cold and tense. The younger children do not bother him, and the older students just ignore his sullying mood.

Tom Riddle was not a happy child. Another request to stay at the castle has been denied. The happy disposition around him was irritating, but there's nothing he hates more than that muggle orphanage. He is a wizard, far above and greater than those filthy and revolting muggles. He loathe the patronizing looks Mrs. Cole gave him, or Martha's wariness every time another child gets hurt. He knows they blame him all the time, but those foolish kids at the orphanage deserve every pain. He hated them all, and he hated Dumbledore for convincing Dippet that it was only proper he goes back to that disgusting orphanage. _'Cannot have favorites Tom, you know the other children might request to stay in the castle too.' _

Tom cannot help the dark look that passes his face. Some of his associates flinch beside him. Yes, just associates, because there are no friends in the Slytherin house, especially not for the poor-icky-orphan boy or the lonesome halfblood. He curled his hands into a fist, digging his nails into his palm. He can't give his housemates the satisfaction of him loosing his cool.

He has always known he's a special boy. His ability to talk to snakes was his first clue to his uniqueness. Finding the Chambers beneath the castle is proof enough of his great and noble blood. He was Slytherin's heir, and they will rue the day the pureblood's mocked him, the bigger kids taunted him, and Dumbledore for always doubting him.

He glares at the plump boy beside him. Tom wasn't sure if it was Crabbe or Goyle, he neither cares. But if that boy chews anymore loudly, they cannot blame him for cursing his fat arse into next month. But it will do him no good if he gets expelled. Tom needed to do more research, to explore the buried secrets the Chamber has to offer!

He smiles a sinister smile, nothing excites him more than forbidden dark knowledge.

…

"With all do respect Armando, I don't think I'm quite ready yet to take after your position." Albus tries to talk some sense into the man. He may have fallen back to his natural routine in the Castle, but he was not ready for another commitment. He just ended one with a man, albeit that one was a different case. Does he not deserve just a little break, a breather, a vacation?

"Nonsense my boy! You are perfect for the job. You have been Deputy for quite some time now, you know you are more than ready for this. Besides I think Minerva can quite handle herself now, she can work full time as the Transfiguration Professor and take over your position." The grey haired man said, his long frizzy beard hiding his mouth.

"And I might be quite sprightly for my age.." Right _"sprightly"_, Albus had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "…but I am quite old now Albus. These bones can't go up and down the Castle anymore."

Albus agrees, Dippet is quite the ancient man.

"Well, actually, I was hoping to take some things off my plate for now. I did give some of my load to Minerva this year, what with dealing with Grindelwald and all. There is also the matter of the Wizengamot appointing me the Chief Warlock and the ICW has been considering me one of their board members. It is quite exciting to hold the name Supreme Mugwump. I do have many opinions regarding the wizarding world, and it would be nice for some of them to be implemented. I have always wanted to make a change. Wouldn't you agree Armando? Also Nicolas has invited me this summer to his chateau in Paris. We have the most interesting development for the usage of dragon's blood. I think were on to a break through, he said he might have discovered another use for those rare blood. Can you believe it? I can publish 12 uses for dragon's blood. That's a lot compared to my measly 9, and I am quite proud of it my self! It is hard to acquire dragon's blood, so you wouldn't believe how we had to wrangle some dragon's in the Dragon Reservoir in France. Although we did have some help from most of the wizards working there. But don't tell that to anyone, I think it's far more interesting to hear we have acquired it ourselves. Gryffindor bravery and all. So you see Armando, I don't think it's wise to appoint me Headmaster this coming year."

Albus couldn't help the large smirk in his face. He hasn't even started talking about the Wizengamot and the old man has already fallen asleep. _Sprightly? _He snorts. The man is truly old, but another year or two wouldn't hurt him.

He coughs loudly to get the man's attention. "I'm glad we have come to an understanding Armando" He said while standing up, putting down his tea on the table.

"Oh yes, yes an understanding." The aged headmaster jolt from his sudden slumber, seeming out of sorts. His tea sloshing from his shaky hands.

"See you next term Headmaster. If you need me I shall be in my office." He nods before walking out the headmaster's office. He wonders if he'll become an old coot like Armando.

Albus Dumbledore, Master of Transfiguration, Order of Merlin, and on his way to be a Grand Warlock and Supreme Mugwump of Wizengamot. Defeater of Geller Grindelwald, sly manipulator, and now owner of the Elder Wand. No, definitely not an old coot.

He goes back to his office with a slight bounce in his step. Packing his trunk with a flick of his wand, he was more than ready to go to Paris.

…

Hermione wakes up to the sound of sizzling and to a delightful mouth-watering smell. She walks out of their sleeping chamber, tying her hair in a messy bun. She was wearing one of those big shirts, probably Charlie's. Draco wouldn't be caught dead in scratchy brown wool, his royal majesty said he has _sensitive skin _only fine velvet and silk can touch. He must have changed her last night. She doesn't mind, that was actually sweet of him.

"That smells wonderful Draco!" She sits down at the rickety chair, waiting to be served like the princess she is. She couldn't help but snigger. If someone told her 16 years ago (or was it 16..no, no 68 years into the future? Time Travel mess up with your tenses) that the pompous Draco Malfoy is cooking her breakfast and serving her, she might've called you barmy and admitted you for long-term healing at the Janus Thickey Ward in St. Mungos.

"A plate of bacon frits and omelette au fromage for the lady" He bows dramatically, placing another plate on his side of the table.

"Don't make it sound so fancy Draco. That's just egg with cheese." She says flatly, but she got to admit it did smell so good.

"Witch I do not complain when you cook those pitiful meatloaf of yours!" Draco starts to mumble more incoherent insults towards her, but she pays him no mind. A moan escape her lips as she bites down on those "_french"_ eggs.

"Oh! Oh _fuck me_ this is divine!" Another sensual moan comes out of her.

"Okay" Draco croaked, his throat gone dry. He ceased slicing into his bacon and just stared open mouthed at the witch. Hermione probably didn't hear him because she just continued eating her eggs, not a care in the world.

'_Is she eating in slow motion?' _He thought, tilting his head as he watches her. Merlin, something about Hermione and food just gets him on. He can't help but remember _that_ night. She was wearing a similar baggy shirt, it's hem stopping mid-thighs, and her hair was bunched up haphazardly too. She joined him in the living room to watch the telly. He couldn't remember if it was one of those nights when they both couldn't sleep, or she woke up from a nightmare. But those were not important details when all he remembers was her mouth, doing incredible things.

Oh now he remembers that night clearly. A smile starts grace his face as he let his mind reminisce that beautiful memory.

_'Are you… are you watching a cooking show Draco?' She sits down besides him in the sofa. An incredulous look on her face._

_'Can you blame me? I don't know how Charlie can burn a fukin' salad. And you! You're meals are…'_

_'Are what Draco?' She raises a brow at him. He just huffs and crosses his arms. Hermione scoots closer to him and rest her head on his shoulders. Draco instinctively drapes his arm on her shoulders. They stayed like that for a while, watching quietly as the chef describes his dish._

_'Oh that looks like a delicious Niçoise salad.' Draco turns his head and stared at her, looking very impressed at her correct pronunciation and her culinary knowledge._

_'What did you say?' He asked huskily. Hermione faced him, her eyes half-lidded, her eyes flickered to his lips before looking at him again. She noticed they were now a darker shade of silver._

_'Niçoise salad…' saying it deliberately slowly. The next thing he knew he was jumping at her, their clothes thrown without care. _

_That was the first night they slept together._

_"_Draco stop smiling like that, you look creepy." He suddenly cleared his throat and duck his head, the flames on his cheeks goes down his neck.

Their meals finish, Hermione snaps her fingers and the dishes starts cleaning themselves. Wandless magic was second nature to her that animating plates and pots to clean after themselves was effortless. She then starts rummaging inside her beaded bag, pulling out color coded manila folders after each other. She charmed one of the walls white and started pinning and laying out her plans before for him.

Draco droops a little, so much for his morning fantasies. He knows when Hermione starts working and planning, she wouldn't stop until exhausted. Maybe he could convince her to work sans clothes.

Hermione looks at the detailed plans with smug satisfaction. A timetable was on her right, while a checklist on the outer left most side of the wall, charmed to cross-out itself. In the middle, a projection of their first plan post travel. There was also a list of things they have to acquire and do before they set themselves out into the wizarding world. Draco read things like, '_Change Draco's pale hair' _to '_Open a Gringotts account, preferably in the Paris branch' _and _'Get a house'._ Which he scratched out and changed to a '_Parisian Townhouse with a great view of the tower'. _Hermione pays him no mind. They might have called the dingy cabin _home_ for years, but she knows he hated that shack. Draco loathe the fact that the other two occupants refuse to transfigure their furniture into anything more. He would've burned the stupid couch if it wasn't Hermione's favorite. He admits it was a comfortable couch but it was down right drab and in a boring shade of tan.

"This is your folder Draco, in there you would see a detailed plan for the things we have to do this week. Please do follow them in order. You might have been accustomed to the Gryffindor way of life for some time now, what with living with me and Charlie, but a color coded plan is the key to success…"

"Right." Draco said, raising an elegant brow at the witch.

"...so don't be so daft as to jump towards the enemy. Might I remind you that self preservation was one of your house traits, we don't want a repeat of the Christmas Disaster back in 2012…"

"Oh please! You liked that we stakeout that muggle party! They were celebrating the downfall of…" Hermione covers his mouth.

"Yes, yes, yes! But it doesn't matter when they can recognize you Draco! Which brings me to one of my points, see the yellow coded tab Unit 2 under subsection 1.1. We do have to change your hair Draco, and we can't use magic that others can easily _Finite_. Muggle coloring is out of question, they tend to have inconsistencies with their shades. Perhaps a permanent color changing potion?"

"Ash slong as h-it's snot red" His voice muffled by her hand. Hermione couldn't resist rolling her eyes. She already settled herself on his lap mid lecture, his left arm snaking her torso while his right magically flips the pages of the levitating folder.

"Don't be silly Draco. That would be a scary image." Draco just glares at the infuriating witch. One more insult and he will throw her into the table… and probably snog the daylights out off her.

"Besides red doesn't actually help with us being inconspicuous." She flicks some lints of his shirt. Hermione breathes in deeply, trying to catch her breath.

"Now, lets start with the first phase of our operation. Please look at Plan C… Yes that one with the blue tab." Draco points at the name in the label. His face in a disbelieving frown.

"Why don't we start with Plans A and B, why jump to C?" He asked, removing Hermione's hand from his mouth.

"Well A and B are plans we could do along the way. Besides those are just about altering our appearance and getting settled here in 1945. Anyway…" Looking meaningfully at Draco. She hates it when he interrupts her.

"We will do our first big operation soon. Plan C, Bigot Lord Extraction Heist!" Hermione said with a lot of conviction in her voice. Her smug smile is quite cute on her.

"BLEH?" Draco couldn't stop laughing at the witch.

...

...

**AN:** After living for some years together, they have gotten used to each other's peculiarities. I find it hilarious the way I made Draco this peacock snob who likes fine dining and has great taste in interior designing. He is after all his mother's son. I just want to say Thank You to those who started to like and follow my story, I know I'm kinda slow in the update but I really want to make it good for you!

OC: Thermin Frohe - 1945 Chief Dragon Handler. Purely made-up character.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, nothing is mine but the plot.

…

Jusqu'à la prochaine fois!


	5. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Hello Old Friend

It was a noisy farewell in the Hogwarts courtyard. Friends exchanging addresses, promising to owl each other. There were some students who couldn't get their hands off of each other, dreading their time apart during the break. Others were running back to their common room, frantically searching for things they might have forgotten. A group of sixth year Gryffindors try to accomplish their last minute pranks, while some prefects try to control the mini chaos they're creating. Most of the slytherin purebloods look at some of their schoolmates with an air of superiority. Feigning indifference to the other's childish antics. One boy, however, was truly scowling at the immature display.

But this all flew over Albus' head. He was less interested in adolescent dilemmas, his thoughts more on his approaching vacation in Paris. Something about visiting the beautiful _ville de lumière_ excites him, he has a feeling something big awaits him.

He pushes one slytherin student into the carriage. "Off you go Mr. Carrow. Let's not dawdle anymore here, you can avenge your dignity next term." The student looks at him wide-eyed, did Professor Dumbledore just tell him to take revenge on his beloved Gryffindors.

"Ms. Rosier, please make sure your housemates all make it safely to the station, _without delay_." He looks sternly at the Slytherin prefect, making sure the snooty teen get his point that he does not want to be bothered by the students any longer.

He continues to scratch out names in his roster, making sure every child has left the castle. He was starting to get antsy at some Hufflepuff for coming back in the castle a third time. He was never this impatient but Hogwarts was not his whole life, a break is necessary at this point.

"Mr. Lionel, I suggest you get yourself in a carriage this instant. You should have known to pack your belongings beforehand, your houselmates seem to have no problem with that." A stern looking witch said.

"But Professor…"

"Do not make me floo your mother Mr. Lionel!" Thankfully Minerva decided to lecture the little airhead. He was close to transfiguring the boy into a chair. Oh dear, did he just wish human transfiguration on a child. He rubs his temples, Merlin he truly needed this break.

"Thank you Minerva, children are truly a blessing but there are just days that they are worse than a curse."

Minerva couldn't agree more. She took out a flask from her pocket and offered some to her once professor. The two exchange laughs as they walk back in the castle.

…

_{"We will take it!"}_ Draco's arm was wrapped around Hermione's waist. The image of the perfect newly-wed couple. Draco made sure that they have deck-out their fashion in full 40's regalia. He said it was necessary to ascertain their should be status in the community. Hermione has no complaints, she loved the white gloves and the structured three piece women's suite. She looked every bit the parisian heiress. Draco did not also reserve in adorning her with fine jewelry pieces. He choose muggle jewelry for now since a goblin-made one was harder to get. Besides they were suppose to be a half-blood and a muggle born who's inheritance came from their "conveniently dead nouveau riche parents". They had to make sure not even the ring on their finger can be recognized by any witch or wizard, so anything from their respective vaults (be it the Malfoy and Black Vault for Draco, or the Potter Vault in Hermione's case) remained hidden.

Mrs. Martiné couldn't help but swoon at them. The young lady before her was truly beautiful, she moved with such elegance and grace. She did not miss the lady's perfectly tailored robes and her exquisite emerald bijouteries. But it was the husband that intrigued her the most. He was like an Adonis in his dark robes, and he had a striking aura about him. He looked effortlessly posh, and if she didn't know any better the man could very well be a pureblood heir. She couldn't help but notice the young bride smiling shyly at her husband and blushes pink when he whispers to her. And he just looks so besotted to his new bride. Oh to be young and in love!

_{This room is perfect for your personal library love.} _Draco said. The room was truly lovely, it had two great french doors leading to a Juliet balcony. He knows Hermione would love the view of the city with the River Seine just a few feet away.

_{The maison de ville has 3 more rooms in this floor, perfect for your future little tots. Don't you think so?} _the realtor smiled widely at the couple but it was gone the moment Hermione's face fell.

_{I'm sorry. I… I'll go check the other floors}_ Hermione excused herself. Children was always a hard topic for her and she couldn't help the strong emotion break her composure.

_{I apologize, children is a very sensitive topic for my wife} _Draco solemnly said looking over at the door Hermione exited in.

_{Ofcourse, I'm terribly sorry. Why don't we get started with signing some paperworks before you look around again.}_

Draco found Hermione in the master suite. She was out in the balcony leaning on the railing, the summer sun shining down on her locks making it look like an ombre colors of brown, red and gold. She closes her eyes as she feels the soft wind brush her face, somewhat drying the tears that have streamed down her cheeks.

She knows when McGonagall materialized as her boggart back in third year, her greatest fear was actually failure. But how could she fail motherhood when she can't even be one. Dolohov's curse in the Ministry did a number on her, frying her ovaries. It did not help when that bitch Bellatrix tortured her so much, that any possibility of reproduction has gone down to impossible.

This was one of the reason why she was apprehensive with her relationship with Draco. She tried to keep it casual. But if the world push you to be together (_literally, _since there was no one else left) you can't help but to truly fall in love with one another. Still, that doesn't stop the guilty feeling of not being able to give Draco what he has always wanted. She knew he would be the good doting father who will spoil their children with profiteroles and berry tarts instead of those store bought sugar quills and chocolate frogs. A father who will definitely be better than Lucius. He was already the perfect husband, though sometimes the ferret can be such a diva with a questionable obsession to fine linen, but hsi quirks just makes her love him more.

Draco embraces her from behind, nuzzling her hair. He always like that it smelled like rose water and vanilla, even during the run her scent was always lovely.

"Will you marry me Hermione?" He whispered.

"We are already married Draco, what are you on about?" She twist her body so that she could face him, making Draco cage her in his arms.

"You can hardly call it a wedding love. It was actually amazing that Charlie's drunk arse could seal the bond." He chuckles against her nose.

"You could barely stand that night too Draco!"

"Well who could blame us, we we're celebrating. You said yes to me that night! And I do remember that was the first night you served us a perfectly roasted chicken."

Hermione just smiled fondly at him, but he could see her eyes were filled with insecurities.

"I do not regret anything Hermione. From everything that has ever happened to us, our marriage and our union is something that I will never come to regret." His rests his forehead against her, and they just share a silent moment for a while.

"Oh… and I may have made a slight.. minuscule mistake" Draco started to back away a little bit from the narrowing gaze of the petite witch.

"What could you have possibly done Draco?" She was already crossing her arm, her previous sullen mood being replaced by irritation.

"Imayormayhavenottoldthelovelyladyawrongname" He said trying to avoid her glare.

"What?" Her brows were already furrowed.

"But look on the bright side! We got the house Mrs. DiCaprio!"

"WHAT?!"

"Well it's your bloody fault! You're the one who wanted to use a constellation name. I mean really, Leeeooo? I may be an honorary Gryffindor, but I do not look like a _Leo!_ Besides, I may have slightly panicked when she realized it was a constellation name. She must be prying if I am related to any of the Blacks! I may have changed the color of my hair and eyes but I still resemble my ancestors! So… I actually said it was short for Leonardo. But it's no big deal love! Although, we might have to visit Gringgots again for a name change." He said as he flashed her his most charming smile.

And for the first time in her life, Hermione was too dumbfounded to speak.

…

It was always lovely to walk around the cobbled streets of Montmarte. She cherished the days she used to visit her grand-mère, taking a stroll in the neighborhood, practising her french, their bags full of the season's fruits from the local market and some pastries from the bakeshop. Then she found out she was magical, and she couldn't wait to visit the wizarding side of the city. But it never came to fruition when her grand-mère passed away even before her first summer after Hogwarts. That's why it was not hard to emulate her look of wonder and amazement when she strolled around Place Cachée. It was very different from Diagon Alley, the entrance for one was not located in a dingy bar, a bronze statue welcomes you to it's secret passage.

It was beautiful, there were no crooked looking buildings or explosion of colors and stones. It imitates the beautiful architecture of Paris. The muggle counterpart might be in disarray especially after World War II, but magical Paris was truly - magical. She couldn't help but ooh-and-ah at the shop windows, appreciating the intricate details of each boutique. Even Bibliothèque des marais was a more refined and sophisticated bookshop than Flourish and Blotts. The shop was sating her passion for books. She couldn't help but fall in love.

For a moment she forgot what the future holds for this beautiful city. When the muggles neutralized magic in the city, the buildings in Place Cachée started falling apart, like as if the city was really dying. She vows she wont let that happen this time.

She walks pass a window and noticed the delicate pastries in display. Maybe she could bring some home to Draco, there's nothing more he loves than those decadent french pâtisseries.

…

Oh it was a wonderful day! The sun was shining, his skin glowed nicely, gone were the dark bags under his eyes. He even has a small bounce to his step. Oh Albus just loves Paris! He couldn't help but smile at everyone. Other's might have given him odd looks, but he was The Albus Dumbledore, and he could walk freely the streets of Place Cachée without someone openly hostile towards him. There might still be Grindelwald supporters out there, but there won't be anyone foolish enough to declare a duel, not on a Master Duelist -defeater of Grindelwald- anyway.

Passing by Rammelle's Enchantée, he couldn't help but look at the displayed confiseries. Oh that store always brought out the sweet tooth in him. There was more than enough time before he meets with Dr. Branchiflore to retrieve his special order of the rare petals of silver erithrinas, which he thinks its anxiolytic properties will improve his anti-nightmare potions, something that won't be as addictive as the Dreamless sleep potion.

He was on vacation he could buy a box or two of those beautiful gourmet chocolates, oh and maybe those truffles too… _Oof!_

_{Oh! Forgive me Monsieur, I wasn't looking where I was going} _A sweet voice made Albus look up from his bent position. What he saw was a beautiful petite witch with the biggest hazel eyes he has ever seen. Those eyes caught him off guard, it felt like she was staring right through his mind that he had to clamp down his Occlumency in place. The witch was clearly of affluent status, but he doesn't seem to recognize her. He was startled again when the witch smiled beautifully at him, and for a moment he felt bewitched by her charming smile. Which baffled him, he was never allured by the opposite sex. However the witch before him was like sunshine daisies and all the chocolate bars in the world. She had the warmest and most inviting smile, like a younger sibling looking up to her big brother.

_{Monsieur?} _She blinks at him. There was a little apprehension in her eyes and a small frown on her lips. He must have been staring too long.

_{No worries, Mademoiselle. It seems we both can't decide on what to buy.} _

_{Oui! My husband loves truffles. But I just can't seem to know what to get.}_

_{Well, one could not go wrong with their classic French Perigord Truffles or probably he would much prefer these mini gâteau with chocolate ganache}_

_{Ah! You speak dessert! My husband and you might get along. Really good choices sir, I think I'll get them both! Merci Monsieur…}_

Albus was again surprised by the young woman. She didn't know him? Isn't she french? And here I thought she was a pureblood heiress.

_{Professor Albus Dumbledore. But please call me Albus.} _He introduced as he kissed her knuckles chastely.

_{Anastasia DiCaprio at your service} _She curtsy a little. Her manners are impeccable, she must atleast be a half blood.

_{A professor? May I ask what you are teaching Monsieur Dumbledore?}_

_{I teach Transfiguration at Hogwarts School in Britain. DiCaprio you say? I don't believe I have ever the pleasure of meeting your family.}_

_{Excuse me Mademoiselle, have you decided on your orders?}_ The boulanger asked, he was a stubby man with a funny looking beard.

_{Oui. This man has suggested the Perigord Truffles and the chocolate gâteau.}_The man's eyes widened upon noticing the great wizard smiling beside the witch. _{Ofcourse, very good choices. I'll have them boxed right away! Monsieur Dumbledore! It is an honor to see you in our shop. Please allow us to prepare a box for you too. Compliments of the shop of course!} _Dumbledore nods at the man._ 'Hmm… Would it be too much if he ordered more of those lemon bars and chocolate feathers.'_

"Ah Monsieur Dumbledore, you did not say I am in the company of a famous English man.

Well I suppose you wouldn't know of my family. My husband and I sailed all the way from Monemvasia. Our family is not really known in the magical community. I am a néa mageía whilst my husband is a mias mageías."

"Please it's just Albus and no, I am not really famous. Greek? I have yet to visit Greece, is it as beautiful as the say?"

"Oui Monsieur! But nothing is more romantic and beautiful as the City of Paris." she said wistfully. The young witch was truly charming, and quite bright too judging from her ease at switching language. It was a surprise to hear she's a muggleborn, he wonders what a mias mageías is. They must have arrived after the muggle and Gellert's war, she was too proud of her heritage. Which is what it should be, we are all magical just as muggles are all deserving of life just like them.

_{Here you go Mademoiselle.} _A box set was handed to her and Albus. The wizard holds the door for her as he sees her out. There was something intriguing about her that he couldn't help but ask her and her husband for tea.

"I am grateful for your help Albus. I could've spent the rest of my morning in there browsing if it weren't for your help." She jokes.

"Perhaps I could invite you and your husband for tea? If you are new to the city I can introduce you to some friends of mine." He offers with a smile. And once again Hermione didn't have to fake the wide grin on her face.

…

Albus knew Paris will do him good. He was making great progress with his potions, and his research on the use of dragon's blood was a success. Upon being introduced to Leo, the young man helped him further his research. It seems aside from their equally love for french treats, they also seem to have a knack for potions. He would have never thought that Dragon's blood can also be used as counter for Acromantula's venom, a cleaning agent, add as an astringent in toothpaste, and for it's more sinister use it has an abortificient property that can be added to a potion - which he would gladly not add in his publication.

Leo was just a delight, aside from his vast knowledge with potions ingredients, he could make exquisite meals. Nicolas, the alchemist he is, just adores the boy, after attending one of the couple's hosted dinners at their home the two have since frequented them. It seemed that Nicolas looked younger, well as young as a centuries old man can, but their eyes twinkled every time Leo comes out with his best new dish. His mother must have taught him well to host dinners, despite having no elves he can set up their table with such finesse. He still couldn't forget the 7 course meal he prepared for them one night, and his stories about swimming in the depths of Mediterranean Sea or exploring the Acropolis of Athens just make their hearts younger. He doesn't know what surfing is, but the boy can make it sound so exhilarating, Albus swears he broke out tiny sweats when the young man before him encountered a shark near the reefs of the Aegan Sea. And did he mention the decadent Parmesan pannacotta he served as their amuse-bouche, talk about a full course meal!

But if Leo was brilliant at potions and the art of culinary, Anastasia was a genius! She has a penchant for history, she couldn't help but beam at Nicolas' tales of the 14th century and how he met Perenelle in Beauxbatons. The well read witch can speak in several languages- English, Greek, French, Arabic, Slovak, German, Japanese, Nihongo, Old Latin, and Spanish are just among those that he heard. And if his assumptions are correct she can read and write in them too, how could he not notice their library full of muggle and magical books, texts, and tomes. She was also an inventor! Her laundry and drying contraption was just too innovative! She has also invented several potions for her hair (which Leo claims could look like a cotton field ready for harvest), a musical box that was charmed to help children sleep soundly - he was grateful for this one, a spell that keeps the floors polished and shiny, and a disinfectant cream she carries around everywhere. All benign things, but he couldn't fault the couple for that. They were raised away from the war and oppression, how could they know the importance of a counter-curse or the use for the Draught of Living Death.

The couple was also easy to read, always thinking of going on vacations, shopping for new books, or just walking around the city in their trendy robes. He was a bit guilty for using Legillimency on them from time to time, but you can't blame a man for being paranoid, didn't he just end a mad man not too long ago. But it was sweet to see Leo thinking of opening his own restaurant, unfortunately he knows the young man is not ready for such a responsibility. They were quite lax with their life that Albus just wants to bundle them up and protect them from the nightmares he has seen and lived. It also saddened him when he found out that they couldn't conceive, but they seem happy enough with just the two of them. Nicolas and Perenelle didn't have any children too, but that didn't stop them from creating the Philosopher's stone.

Their story also explains their opulent lifestyle. They may not be as rich as the Malfoy's or Black's, but they both came from influential families in Greece, albeit a muggle one. And the couple loved to travel, their stories of their trips across Europe, Asia and even Africa is just extraordinary. It's quite refreshing to see a man who's views in the world are just positive and Anastasia's passion for extinct animals and her kind smile towards the children in the plaza just shows how good-hearted they are. He could not help but think if Ariana has not become a casualty of his and Gellert's fight, she could probably be as free spirited and lovely as they young lady before him. It was not hard to share, and perhaps boast a little, his knowledge and magical prowess to them. The two just stare wide-eyed and always in awe at how he and Nicolas brew potion or do a bit of wandless magic. Such innocent folks, he will make damn sure that no harm comes to them. He would warn them away from Britain, he doesn't want these honest couple be tainted or ostracized by those viscous conniving purebloods.

"Tell us more about Hogwarts Albus! Is it true you only have one professor for one subject?" Anastasia asked. Oh yes, Koldovstoretz in Russia did have a larger faculty.

"Yes, sometimes I wonder if Russia had a better idea of employing more professors. Children can be quite a handful sometimes you see." Albus said, taking a sip of their fine wine, appreciating that muggles do make better wine.

"Ofcourse Koldovstoretz is better! That's where we met, isn't that right dear?" The couple nuzzle each other. They do tend to be too affectionate sometimes, but they are young and in love.

"I may be a little bit bias Leo, but I truly think Hogwarts is still the best magical school out there." He winked at the playful young man.

"Well I have to disagree with you Albus. It's not really the best when the school houses a large monster that can literally kill you with one look. Tell me, has the Chamber of Secrets been opened yet?" His hand freezes from taking another bite of his dessert. Anastasia's voice has gone placid and her eyes had a bit of manic gleam in them.

"I beg your pardon?" He looks over at Leo, still holding on to his wife's hand. Slowly caressing it, like a master to it's pet. He has gone impassive and could swear his eyes were a bit more silver than its usual blue.

"Well the heir of Slytherin is with-in your castle, did you not know? I bet that scaly bit has been hissing to her master, or was it a he? I can't seem to recall, but you see I didn't want to look at the carcass too much back then."

"What are you saying Anastasia?" He has gone serious now. The strangers before him was not the same laughing and sweet couple he spends his time with. Albus' mind has gone over-drive and he was thinking if the couple before him are imposters.

"What did I say to you Anastasia when we bought you an owl at the Manigerie?" He asked with narrowed eyes. Maybe someone was bent on revenge for cornering him in such a private place. And what better way to do it than polyjuice themselves into his friends. He was right, he should have been more vigilant about this, he knows there are still those who want to avenge their Lord Grindelwald. Oh the poor DiCaprios, he just hope they are still unharmed from whatever these two cons did.

"Ah yes! The usual _Order_ questions." She said in a sing-song voice that chilled him.

"What order? I did not give anyone orders! Who are you?!" He was already gripping his wand but kept it down.

"The Order, which compromises the most influential houses from Light. But perhaps it is still too early to draw them together yet. Didn't you just subdue the impending threat from a mad man recently. I'm honestly surprised you haven't talked to Lord Potter yet, what with the Elder Wand right in your hand." She said casually, smirking from the tip of glass wine.

"_Expelliarmus!" _He shouted the Disarming Spell. But to his surprise nothing happened. Albus was already standing from his seat, his eyes blazed with anger.

"Oh did you want these? No need for such hostility Albus. Here!" He did not hesitate catching the wands Leo threw at him.

"What is this? These are not wands!"

"Synthetic material, a novelty wand crafted by muggles. It was suppose to serve entertainment for the children. They go around the streets screaming gibberish spells." The unknown lady said it nonchalantly, like as if describing the weather.

"Hala-balu! Alakazam! You filthy wizard! Die! Die! Die!" Leo mimicked in a sickly high voice.

Albus had enough of their nonsense and bounded them with his modified Incarcerous, if they try to break free with any magic the ropes will burn their skin.

"This is a bit dark Albus. I didn't think you're quite capable of such dark spells" Her voice was very indifferent now, mocking as if. The man beside her has been chuckling mad, like as if he was not bound and he had the upper hand.

"You have no idea who I am and what I am capable of! Now who are you and what have you done to the DiCaprio's?!" Albus shouted his demands. He was growing impatient and he needed to counter what dark spell they did on his friends before it was too late.

"Did he… did he really just think…"

"You stop your incessant laughing young man and answer my question!"

"Now now love, play nicely."

"Oh god 'Mi! You sounded like my father there." The man still couldn't stop laughing.

"Who is your father? Who are you two!?" Albus was going wary now. His anxiety and anger make his hands tremble a little.

"The man is not hard to emulate. He is quite the imposing figure, isn't he?" A red spell shot thru her as he stupefied the crazed woman.

Deciding that Albus had enough of their cheek. He made sure to shout clearly "_Legillimens!" _This was not like the careful brush he usually does, this time he didn't care if he invaded their minds harshly. But he was thrown back right after entering Leo's mind.

"Tsk tsk. That wasn't nice Albus" The man's voice has gone cold and serious. He was now sure that his eyes were silver, just like… As "Leo" breaks free from his bindings, like it was a mediocre spell, realization dawned on him.

"You're a son from the House of Black! But who? Orion? Cygnus? Or perharps Pollux?! You're family is quite crazed but I never thought you'd enter a house from someone you see as inferior status! What could you possibly achieve by confronting me here! Do you really think you could trap me here, and then what?" He was shouting and taunting the young man to talk. But as the clock ticks, their feature never wavered and they have been in dinner for quite some time now. Leo didn't even moved, he just looked at him straight on, as if provoking him to attack.

Draco leaned his hips on the table beside him. Albus has rounded on them now, facing them with no barrier in between in them. He was looking at the man who he once tried to murder, the man who offered him help once, the one who believed he could not be a cold blooded killer, that he was no monster like his father or his aunt. But now he had a change of heart, killing was just another necessity. "_For the greater good. _Isn't that right Albus?"

"But you shouldn't concern yourself with me. You pissed her off…" Draco pointed at the witch.

Swirls of dark smoke envelop the ground, like a live vine growing from underneath. The woman was still unconscious in the chair and bounded. But Albus could feel the heady stench of something dark, and powerful. Something unknown, like a live entity halting him in place. It was too late when he felt the cold brush of air in his empty hands, his wand gone from his person.

"What are you…" He chokes, he was frozen, unable to move, breathe or even blink. His eyes were staring at the woman before him. Much like the man, she too stands with ease, stretching her body like as if she just woke up from a nap. The swirls of smoke start to materialize, deep red vine -like blood- creep up him, tangling itself on his limbs. Twisting and gripping him, feeling his magic diminish as each vine ensnare him. He would have been amazed at the spell like Devil's Snare if only he weren't trapped and his magic wasn't being suppressed.

"Oh Albus. You make this too easy. Did you not think we wouldn't know you'd be in Paris. We're we that convincing for you to trust us implicitly. Have you been so easily fooled by our finicky dreams of playing house and romance? I am utterly disappointed Professor. And here we thought we'd be dueling somehow. Oh don't worry about your lovely hollow, I kept it hidden for now. You wouldn't need it anyway, we just want to talk.

You see I have planned this meticulously Albus, and you played your part quite well. But the game isn't over yet. Rome was not built in a day. So much work to do, so little time…" She faces her husband and lovingly caress his cheeks.

"However, you did get one thing right…" She said her voice so calm as she looks back at her husbands stare. "…the Black's are a bit cuckoo in the head but you can never fault their loyalty. That's what make them the best companions, allies, and lovers." She kisses him sensually and Albus can't stop the feeling of disgust creep on him.

"Who are you? What do you want from me?" He tried to grit out.

"You are needed for our plan Professor. You see, my husband and I came from a… _place_ where magic is at the brink of extinction. I think our departure did seal that deal. We were the last ones. It was our apocalypse, the magical Armageddon, our fated Ragnarok."

"I don't understand what you are talking about? Magic is not dead! I apologize if you have been stricken by Gellert's reign, but surely you are better off now! What makes you so sure that I can even help you? If this is about revenge, you will not win. I have fought a mad man's vision because I do not believe in this blood supremacy. But this is no way to retaliate!"

"Do you really?" She raises a brow at him, her look askance.

"Did you not believe in the same ideology as Grindelwald? Did you not believe it was once _for the greater good?_ Do not lie to me Albus, it makes you look foolish." He just glares at the petite witch before him.

"Your mindless inquisition will not let us move forward." She silence him with magic, to avoid anymore interruption.

"So let me introduce ourselves once more.

My name is Hermione Jean Granger, muggleborn extraordinaire, insufferable know-it-all, Gryffindor bookworm, once founded S.P.E.W…" She then gestures to the man on her left. "And this is my husband, Draco Abraxas Malfoy, heir to two of the great and pure noble houses of Black and Malfoy, once named the coined term _Prince of Slytherin_, makes awesome pies, turns into a dragon…"

"What?"

"Downplaying your introductions love? None of that Granger, you're a Malfoy now. We do not introduce ourselves so conventionally." Draco sniffs. He hates when Gryffindor's act all modest and humble, then go on and invent the arcane ritual for temporal transmutation. "Will that really help with our plan? Besides I wanted to visit the Apothecary before it closes tonight." She said exasperatedly. This was getting really tiring for her, but she couldn't give up now. They could've just used their gold and resources to live peacefully in the 40's but it wouldn't be like her if she gives up on saving magic. Magic is in her very essence, it was what she has been fighting for since she got that first letter from Hogwarts. Besides, Harry may have passed his annoying hero complex to her, and she'd be damned if she failed magic again.

Albus couldn't help but stare wide eyed at them. He seem to realize now that they are not from this time, and maybe not even from this world.

"Oh none of that Albus! We are from this world. We are uncertain if Aliens do exist but we're not refugee from some strange world seeking help!"

"You.. cannot.. change.. time"

"Actually _We_ can. And _We_ will! But I am not here to describe the finer details of our time travel. No. We are here to hire your '_services', _all details and information will be handed out later."

"I refuse to be dragged to some plan by a bunch of…" Hermione cut him off with a spell.

Then she showed him a world where a monster's lust for power and blood lust split the wizarding world further apart. He saw the destruction to his beloved castle, the young kids stripped off from their childhood to become soldiers. Death after death. And after their own destruction he saw what the muggles did to exterminate all magic. No creature not even a single sprout was safe from their weapons of mass destruction. The way they were hunted like plague, where magical creatures were tortured and scrutinize for their peculiarities and every sanctuary of magic defiled and burned down. It was death and destruction. But the most horrifying of it all was the witch spoke truth, they were the only ones left.

He was left heaving after Hermione has shown him images upon images of the horror the two have seen. Hermione saw the hopelessness and grief in his eyes, the very same one they have.

"We will prevent it Albus. We will not make it happen. And you will play right on our plan." She said with confidence that make Albus look at the young witch with horror and awe.

"What do you want from me? You seem more capable of defeating this monster to stop him now. Why need me?"

"Professor, a man is but a monster, you have yet to stop the nightmare."

"You wish for revolution?" He breathes out.

"No Professor. I plan the revolution." And this time Hermione had her angelic smile at him again.

"Yeah! BLEH!" Draco, as he claimed, said jovially. The intimidating atmosphere was gone but the aged wizard was still trapped by her magic.

"Must you Draco?"

"What?" Albus was overwhelmed, scared, horror-stricken, and now confused.

…

It was futile. He tried returning to the safety of Hogwarts. Dippet almost appointed him Headmaster right there and then, but he said he just wanted to get a head start in his lesson plans. '_Let's not get carried away now Armando. Now I believe I do have some gifts for you from Paris. Yes, of course Armando, how could I forget.' _He was glad to dodge that one. But then after he sat down in his office, his head resting heavy on both his palms. The crazed witch waltz in his office like she owns the place, handing him some color-coded folder, and left… no she apparated or what ever disappearing act she did, because she turned and suddenly petals were left in her place then it was on fire, then ash, then an unassuming wind blew it away. Never mind that she broke every rule of the ward in the castle to apparate in the grounds. Something only the current headmaster can do. _Wasn't it? _

A week after that surprising visit, he managed to read -and reread 12 times- the imposing folder. He wasn't sure if their plans were brilliant or complete lunacy. After his 8th cup of some really strong black tea he still couldn't decide.

"You really have no choice there Albus. She just finished collecting most of the data partial to the plan." Leo, no DRACO, said as he popped a candy in his mouth. His feet was propped on his desk and Albus just wanted to hex the man. He had to remind himself he was a patient man. He is above conceited prats who materialize in front of him any-fuckin-where, doesn't matter if he's in the loo…

"Albus please! I do respect your privacy in the loo! Besides who would want to see that?"

"Yeah, the same respect you have for my head!"

"You're easy to read old man."

"I am a Master Occlumens! And I am not an old man!" He could not help but sneer and be grumpy at the arrogant man. Pompous arse, can't keep his thoughts to himself! Old? I'll show you who's old.

"You know if you just stop your muttering in that hairy head of yours, you'd be done packing by now."

"I am deliberately being slow! I _also_ have not agreed to anything… My head is also not hairy, it's called a beard. Maybe you should grow one."

Draco couldn't help but sigh, this man can be truly childish sometimes.

_*Snap*_ "There, all your bags are packed." Albus spluttered his indignation.

"I will not even ask how you know what I wanted to pack… How are you both at such ease with wandless magic anyway?" Albus asked, still baffled and quite skeptical at how capable the two are.

"Our wands make us weak. We rely too much for it to harness our magic. But we have always been magical, we are all capable. Why limit yourself to one weapon, when your hands can be just as deadly as a wand. When your mind can trick a line of soldiers into thinking they have the upper hand, when you can charm any woman or man into trusting you with just a look. Did you really think bumping into Hermione that day was purely coincidental. That her toothy smile and big wide innocent eyes can captivate anyone. She has bewitched you with just her scent, and her beauty enchanted you. Making you think she was trustworthy, kind, and honest. We are not at ease with wandless magic Albus. We are at ease with magic, we let it consume us and it prosper in us.

Why are you even so sure we are in your office and not just in your mind? That the past few weeks contemplating the plan was done at the comforts of your own chair. That the fire in the hearth truly heats you. Do not be so complacent Albus, one friend of yours did always say '_constant vigilance'. _And you sir fail at it."

The two just stare at each other. He glared at the audacity of the young man before him. But before he could even blink, the same vine arrested his movements and magic. This was not the same vine that slowly entwined him the way the witch did. This was more malevolent, it was forceful and harsh.

"People tend to forget that I was once a slytherin, that I am a Malfoy and a Black. I am unhinge and unforgiving. I can easily control you and I don't even have to use magic. So please, if you think your patience is wearing thin, mine has been tested since I was born. Do not think you have a choice. We will fix what has been destroyed and you will be the face of our revolution. So think again if you can outrun us, we are barely the same students you once tried to use as pawns in your war of light against the dark. We are not fighting for blood supremacy, or prejudices. We are fighting for magic."

Draco looks at his watch, used to be Charlie's watch given to him by Arthur before he came of age.

"Let us go, we have to pick up someone else along the way."

The two vanish without a sound.

…

"Hello Professor. Did you make Draco angry? He barely uses this type of magic"

Albus glared indignantly at her. He may be bounded and his magic suppressed but he will not give them the pleasure of showing his weakness.

"It will just hurt more if you keep fighting this Albus. We will not hurt you, haven't we said enough about saving all magic." He was not convinced, not when he was being dragged against his will.

"Don't worry, we will discuss more later if you want. But we do have a heist to do right now. Time's a ticking, we have to pick-up an old friend"

They apparated in a dark alley, he could barely make sense where they are but he was sure it was nowhere near the Scottish Highlands nor Paris.

They stand in a clearing, and he wonders who they are waiting for. In the corner of his eyes he could see a figure flying towards them. A black imperial eagle perched itself to Hermione's arm.

"Have you been watching our friend Achilla?" She coos at the bird while stroking it's feathers.

"Go tell him we're coming, and that we brought more friends." She release the eagle from her hold and Albus saw it disappear as it flies towards the night sky.

"He will expect us any minute now."

They apparate in a dark hallway. The couple's shoes were barely making any sound in the floor. They didn't have to walk any more further for him to realize where they are. He knows this place quite to well, he has been here once and he was sure that one time was enough.

Breaking free was futile, he had no choice but to grow more wary as they near a lone dark door. Was this the _friend _they were talking about, is he to become the monster they once feared, the one they call the 'Dark Lord'. How could they omit such an information.

His thoughts were halted once they reached the door. Draco didn't even bother knocking and the two just waltz inside, with him hovering behind them. He was resigned as they enter the room, his head down.

The person was looking out the small window. He looked small despite the cramped room. When he looked back at his visitors, a wide grin spreads on his face. Pale Blue eyes twinkled.

Hermione greeted the man with a smile.

"Hello Mr. Grindelwald"

…

…

**AN: **Sorry this took so long to finish.

For the sake of the story, let's pretend Tom Riddle is just in his third year and has yet to explore the Chambers.

Translations:  
_néa mageía_ \- new magic or muggleborn  
_mias mageías_ \- of magic. I made it so that Greece has no label for pureblood or halfblood. Once you inherit magic from your parents you are _of magic._

Most places mentioned are 'real' in a sense. The magical shops are from JK Rowlings, just as everything else except the plot.

…

Jusqu'à la prochaine fois!


	6. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Our Choices Defines Us

It was like this everyday in the orphanage. The bigger kids sit by the steel fence, mimicking the adults whistling at passerby's, they sounded more like wolves under the moon. There are some of the older girls, doing chores with Martha, the grey standard sheets hang on a line, they billow from the passing wind, the pungent smell of bleach breeze over to his window.

He can see the younger children playing by the back garden, an excuse for a garden. It was all gravel and a dead tree on the edge of the property. The metal swing set and slide can barely pass as a playground. Its rusted metal creaks as the children try to push each other. He looks at little Anthony, the new 5 year old. A messy looking kid who's always crying, such worthless human child. He narrows his gaze on the metal chain. Just a bit of focus on his magic, then he hears a tiny scream from the distance.

Martha looks up to the bay window he's sitting at. She is unnerved as Tom just stare at her. She knows it's him, it always has to be Tom, but they can never prove it. How could you prove the impossible?

Tom dangled one of his leg out the window. He let the summer breeze brush his face, completely ignoring the commotion beneath him. The muggles grate on him. He thinks them laughable, dull, and moronic.

However, his anger towards them does not compare to the one he has over his family. The family who never bothered looking for him, the ones who just abandoned him, like his miserable mother who was too weak to raise him and who married his pathetic excuse of a father.

So it was an understatement to think that Tom is an angry child. At least he has the weekend to look forward to, with the orphanage's summer visit to the nearby beach. He hopes the weather will be agreeable that day, it's quite hard to swim against large waves when he visit _his_ cave. He has that at least.

...

The lightning outside illuminated the faces of the occupants in the cramped room. Just months inside his own made prison, you could really see Gellert's gaunt face. Ironically, the room does work, it has successfully concealed and suppressed his magic.

He looks at his old friend, the recent champ to their mighty duel. His face, if not, just as gaunt as him. But he was the prison, while Albus is the reigning hero. A hero that is bounded by creeping vines. '_Hmm, perhaps he's not the only prisoner_'

Though such bleak thoughts doesn't matter as he looks at his once friend, partner, and accomplice. His pale blue eyes twinkle as he greets him.

"What a lovely surprise Albus. I would offer you tea but as you can see I am a bit indisposed."

But the great wizard just ignores the man, his demeanor just as resigned as before. He couldn't even bother looking up at him. Gellert may be thankful for the surprised breakout the two has schemed, but to subjugate Albus is highly unnecessary. Not to mention humiliating, and Gellert cannot forgive anyone who easily take the great wizard, his friend, as a fool.

"To whom do I owe the pleasure of this delightful visit?" He smiled charmingly at the new company, but whatever response he was waiting for, silence was not among them. The younger couple's still form hits a nerve in him, he wanted to strangle the smile from their faces, show them how he demands respect. He tried disarming them, and when that did not work, he sent a series of wandless curses. But in the end he was the one left breathless while the two remained in their place.

He tries to observe them now, he may not feel great power coming from the two, but he is wise to know he shouldn't underestimated them. There is a golden rule to life, to never underestimate your rival. But are they his rival or ally.

The young man, who is every bit like Apollo, walked around his cell. He started writing runes with his finger, the walls glow as he write _Dolus Videre _on the bricks of the wall. As he covered all four walls, the petite lady took out a small stone golem from her pocket and set it on the floor. She started whispering incantations and the rock features of the golem start to grow and mold into a more human form. With in a second's breath, an image much like his stand before him. Mimicking his every move.

"Impressive bit of magic you have here. I wonder how you came to such tricks." Gellert asks, to see such powerful individuals before him _purrs_ at his hunger for power.

"I would love to stay and chat, but this is not the place. We should get going anyway, it's depressing… and dingy" The witch simply said her nose scrunched up in distaste. It was like as if they were not breaking out the notorious wizard.

"I didn't know we're in a hurry love" The man, with the same mahogany hair as the witch, said. He has finished marking the walls and joined the witch at her side.

"Meatloaf's in the oven." She said it nonchalantly.

"Oh god." Draco couldn't help but groan. She must be in a mood to cook that awful meal.

"Shut it Draco!"

"Love if you wanted to poison them, we could have done it better." She scowled at her husband.

This amused Gellert, their exchange entertains him. She make this seem as if breaking him out was just going to the market for an errand. Come to think of it, he was the one who broke out into sweats trying to disarm and curse the two, but they have successfully reached his cell, not a single hair out of place. No alarms were raised, but the two just waltz in the castle, the one he specifically designed to hold prisoners better than Azkaban. Yet here they are, two unassuming couple, talking about a meatloaf, with a stoic Albus towed behind.

Draco whistled, calling the bird. As Achilla lands on his shoulder, the group silently apparates back to Paris. The cell was left just as it was before. A man was hunched on the ground, picking at the loose stone in the wall.

…

They arrived in an elegant receiving hall, the room designed tastefully. He had to appreciate the fine attention to details.

"This is pleasant" He said.

"It is all Draco" The witch said, as if hearing his thoughts.

"Yes, you mentioned his name is Draco. But I would like to know the name of the lovely lady who _rescued me from that place_" He spat the last words. His distaste at not only being _saved_ by an unknown wizard and witch but also ending up imprisoned in the very castle he built leaves a foul taste in his mouth.

"Let's leave all conversation till dinner. I believe you must be tired Mr. Grindelwald. I think a nice a bath will do you good. Come let me show you to your room."

They were about to ascend the grand staircase when the witch slyly whispered to him, "I'll hope you'll find your room to your liking Mr. Grindelwald, I made sure it's adjacent to Albus'." She winks and smiles at him knowingly, and the cheeky jab make him sick. Unfortunately it would do no good to spoil the evening by strangling the witch.

…

Gellert was whistling as he goes down to the dining room, buttoning his sleeves. He appreciates the fine details the two has set out for him, the velvet and silver buttons we're definitely a nice touch. He felt fresh, clean, and after that hot bath, a little energize. Though despite his fresh shaven face and crisp suit, it felt like it was no better than the prison garb he was wearing a while ago. He was not naive, he knows he is very much still in prison, albeit instead of the grey-stoned cell and the creaking spring of his mattress, he has hot water and silk linens. The two has successfully captured him and Albus, with not so much as a sweat or a blink.

He hears an unfamiliar music played in the background. Hermione was now dressed in a more formal robe, the yellow silk material compliments her glowing skin. She waltz towards the new guest handing him a gift.

"Never forget your first Mr. Grindelwald"

He was left speechless as the witch freely hands him a wand, and not just any wand. It was the same wand he got from Arthuro Cephalopos. The silver lime wood has served him well once, he knew it was his because the engraving of his family crest was at the bottom, made especially just for him.

When he held it again in his hand, the same familiar warmth envelop him. A feeling of nostalgia hits him. He looks straight into her eyes, and he can't help wonder who it was before him.

"How?" He asks seriously, but her response was her usual irritating smile. Like as if a kid had asked her why the sky is blue and she patronizes you with a smile.

He doesn't bother asking anymore. Freely offering him a wand was one thing, it was either they were dumb enough to trust him or they have full confidence to handle themselves. But this wand, it was the very same wand that exploded from the impact of Albus' spell. The blood pact created a forced _Priori Incantatem_, destroying both their wands and made their combined spell ricochet straight into Ariana's once beating heart. '_How indeed.'_

He was lead to sit in the head of the table. A pretense, a show that he is the honored guest.

"Chateau Margaux, a 17th century find." Draco pours him red wine. He has to hand it to him to play the good host.

"Such fine accommodation I am receiving, please allow me to thank you Monsieur?" He drags the honorific to prompt the man for an introduction.

"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He shakes the wizard's hand, and tried to read his mind. _Legillimens_ works better with physical touch. But all he got was blackness, an endless pit of nothingness, making his skin grow cold. The emptiness and silence made him reel back his hands. The sinister smile of the wizard before him makes him sick with disgust and horror.

His grip in the wine glass shook a little. He should have known better, Albus came with them unyielding. Something you won't see from the self-proclaimed Gryffindor.

"And this is lovely lady here is my wife, Hermione." Draco holds her lovingly by one hand, the other she placed elegantly in front of him.

"Hermione Granger" This time, however, he did not bother reading her mind as he kissed her knuckles lightly.

"A pleasure my lady" He purred lightly. He felt like a wolf dancing around another predator, waiting to see who is the alpha.

"Are you related to the great potioneer Hector?" He inquired. However, coming from those two houses does not explain the power the couple have. They are an enigma, their talents and ease with magic out of this world.

"No monsieur. I am a muggleborn." She smiles benignly. She looks like she's just waiting for him to sneer at her unfortunate heritage, and when he did nothing but smile (which awfully looked like a grimaced) the witch just chuckled at him.

"I never thought Septimus had another son." His pale eyes looked skeptically towards the other wizard. It was also suspicious he had mahogany hair, something quite impossible for a Malfoy. That family is after all known for their hereditary silver blonde hair. He was also dubious that a Malfoy married a _mudblood_, he must have been blasted off the family tree for sullying himself with such filth. A filth who looks extremely powerful and with Venus' beauty. Of course he once thought that power is power, pureblood or not, but muggleborns tend to favor their muggle life.

"I am not aware he had also." Draco said nonchalantly. Gellert hated their ambiguity, if he knew he could win a duel against the two he could have forced respect from them.

"Where's Albus dear?" Hermione inquired. She was serving Gellert some of the hors d'oeuvre, which the wizard ate with much gusto. Stale bread and rotten apples was not something you can call a meal, Nurmengard was built to be a prison not a hotel.

"Albus, stop standing there and come in here. I promise dessert will be better than the meatloaf." Draco opened the door for him, but the man still stood in silence.

When he decided to join the three for dinner he stood at the other end of the table facing the group. His back was hunched and his wand was loose in his hand. Gellert also notice it was his most recent wand.

"Albus sit down old man. We don't want to show our young hosts such uncanny behavior." Gellert tried to lighten the mood, but he could the foreboding aura of Albus' magic.

Albus whispered something, his eyes were now wide and almost crazed. "Albus, I did not take you for a mumbler. Do speak up please." Gellert said condescendingly. The two were just looking back at him, a knowing smirk on Draco's face and Hermione was just as serene as they first arrived in Paris.

"You have done this before." He stared accusingly at their younger companions. His body was shaking with anger, he had to drag the chair before him boorishly and slumped on it like a resigned drunk man. He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed heavily on his face. He tried to loosen his tie, uncuff his sleeves, and kicked unceremoniously his oxford shoes off. But no matter how he try to get comfortable, the air around him still felt stiff and thin. He couldn't breathe, he didn't want to breathe. He looked up towards the two, bloody calm and composed as always. He had a feeling they were not in the presence of humans, of a witch or wizard. Whoever they are, whatever they want, they have successfully trapped him and Gellert.

"You have done this before, haven't you…" He said louder this time, his bravery slipping. It was the only explanation. Why would they get Gellert and him together in one room, why force this reunion.

Though Hermione smiles beatifically, he knows she has the more sinister nature. Like an orchid mantis, mimicking the pink and purple hues of a flower. The perfect deception, a predator camouflaged so beautifully. And like the fool prey he is, it was too late when he found himself enraptured by her beauty slowly being swallowed by their plan to '_save magic'. _

He looks at his old friend, his once partner. Despite their mutual animosity, they could still read each others' body language, know what the other is thinking. That's why he carefully planned on his defeating him, making sure their meeting would be the last. But because the two has decided they should be reunited, there is only one explanation for this. And he loathes to think what they have in plan _for the greater good._

Now Gellert is trapped, just like the fool he is, worse his old friend seem to realize this too.

Draco stood up from his position to refill everyone's glass. He waited for Albus to chug down his wine before filling it up again. The man downed it like as if it was just butter beer and not a 17th century wine.

Hermione took small sips from her glass before she started.

"We are taught to look at the stars, to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, to see if a grim will take shape in our cups, to figure out the meaning when we fold the lady of death or justice in our cards." Draco sat down beside her and took her hand into his. A united front for their two guests.

"We solve through probabilities, every number and numerology predicting the future. Every prophecy, every sight a seer sees…" She added.

"But nothing is ever set in stone." Draco said as he look towards to the one who will soon be the Headmaster.

"You have all failed magic. Over and over." Hermione closed her eyes as she breathes in deeply. Magic's fate is in doom, and the cruelties of life may have hardened her, but she has always been the compassionate one. To see over and over the fate of their world, broke her heart a million times. She had to reign in her emotions, she cannot break down, not in front of the two people who's looking for her weakness.

"We thought eliminating the monster will save us all. But time sure is a tricky thing, fate will always want to correct itself." Draco continued for her. He reached out his other hand, palm up, and through his magic he showed what will become of the future. It was like Gellert's hookah, only these visions we're more defined, and as each grim visions they see, Gellert only realize one thing. Failure. They have all failed magic.

"_If the world will bring us down I'm taking it down with me._" Draco quoted his wife after he ended the holographic images before them.

"No matter what you do. No matter who you sacrifice as pawns, or who the next genocidal extremist will be, nothing will ever change Professor. Magic will continue to die because you all made the biggest mistake of all." Hermione said as she looked towards the man.

"And that is?" Albus voiced croaked. His face just as grim as their supposed fate.

"You all forgot that we are breath by fire. That we are all children of Hecate. We are here to keep Prometheus' children in line. You disregarded her pleas, blatantly ignored it, you thought the new children she sent down are just as worthless as the muggles you all despise. You ignored our mother. You thought it was your job to be the gods, why, because you think you are better with magic?" The men were silent with her monologue.

"Purebloods always think they are mighty and more deserving. You parade your false old traditions and use them as an excuse to alienate and execute muggleborns. You used this hate to kill, to taunt, to disregard who you think is lesser. In the end, Mother is just dismayed that her children are killing off each other. You strut around like dogs in a show, prancing around your laughable pedigree."

"Then when you grew tired being the poodle of the show, you pretend to be the trainers and mentors. But bully for you, Prometheus did not create dogs. No he did not. He made man according to _his_ likeness, _his_ very own image. You thought you could subjugate and train them, that the muggles will bark and sit at your order, that they should approach you with their tails between their legs, head down."

Hermione breathes in, she was thankful Draco was holding her hand steady.

"We had to know, we had to see where you all made mistake." A tear falls down her face as she says this.

"It was the moment when we let the muggles burn us down at Salem." Draco said in a flat voice.

"When Merlin helped Arthur pull Excalibur and declared him King. When Salazar decided muggles are the scum of the earth and trained his pet to purge all muggleborns." The witch continued.

"Or when Cantenkurus Nott authored the Pureblood directory." Draco scoffed.

"You all belittled the capabilities of muggles. You thought their fire could not burn you. In the end your ignorance and arrogant beliefs torched us all into ashes. Gone were Hecate's children, all of us dead.

I told you Albus, we will fix what has been destroyed. Always remember that we are all children of Magic." The wizened wizard could not speak, it was like she was choking him with her words. He couldn't even come up for air.

"You speak as if muggles are more powerful than us." Gellert still wanted to disagree. He has a clue what she is trying to say, but to admit that muggles are above them is something he will never kneel to.

"Mr. Grindelwald, do you know how the Apache Indians used to ensure lingering painful death to their victims?" She stared defiantly at his glaring eyes. The wizard did not bother to answer her vague question.

"Insects like ants would torture the victim, some would crawl inside the unprotected orifices of the subject and lay eggs, eating them alive from the inside out. One would sting, ten would probably leave permanent physical marks. But how about a hundred? Thousands? Millions?

Mr. Grindelwald in our time there were already 6 Billion muggles. All very capable, all underestimated. The moment you turned your backs against them, thinking they are the harmless creatures you claim, ensured the failure of magic. No matter how many times you try to step on them, burn or drown them out, there will ALWAYS be another mound or hive out there." Everyone sat still, the ticking of the grandfather clock was the only sound they could hear. Hermione has successfully shut the two men up.

"Just be glad magic has not come to collect from you two. Now… grim tales and world domination can be discussed at a later time love. Dinner is getting cold. We should just enjoy summer! Let's just hope the weather agrees with us when we bring them to the beach on Saturday." Draco said jovially, a sudden turn of the mood. He started cutting into the roasted chicken he served. He was not deterred by the small frown on Hermione's face when she realized he did not serve her meatloaf.

…

Gellert found Albus at the Parlor's Balcony, looking over the city. He peeks at the couple, the wife was sitting on his husband's lap. They were whispering sweet nothings and laughing while drinking a mild wine. It was as if they didn't just break him out of prison, or that they didn't just describe the consternation and monstrosity of what the future holds.

He stands quietly with Albus, appreciating the beauty of the City of Lights. It's as if he only sees it now, the city he once stayed at but never truly took the time to look at closely. Everything they see, from the Eiffel Tower to the pavement walls of the canal, man made, all built without magic. He understands now, men who never wielded magic, still prospered and flourished.

"I tried apparating, but it seems I am just imprisoned here as in Nurmengard." He scowled at the large french doors with tinted glass and it's gold plated handles. It was just a beautiful prison, but still a prison nonetheless.

"Even if you go somewhere else, they can always follow you. They can apparate in Hogwarts." Gellert looked at him disbelief, that was something he couldn't do even when he had the Elderwand. They just took a sip of their whiskey as they feel more resigned at their fate and stood in the silence of the night together.

"They are not from this time." Gellert observed. He had a more serious face now, his pale blue eyes lacked it's usual twinkle, like Albus', haunted and tired.

"No, they are not." He sighed deeply. "They said we failed at magic. They keep saying we are all of magic, and that we all failed it." Gellert looks at him with calculating eyes, trying to understand where he's going.

"They never said witches or wizards, it's always _magic." _Albus felt more tired, all this thinking drains him. "My old friend, let's just hope we are included in who they will save. Because if she's right, then magic will collect. And I don't really want to find out what that means." Gellert did not reply, he's still at a lost for words.

"It doesn't matter anyway. She will give you a folder. She's quite meticulous, that one." Albus sipped again from his glass, grimacing at the burning sensation in his throat.

"But they do not tell you everything, do they? Or else you wouldn't have been surprised to see me." Gellert looked into his old friend as the latter just shake his head.

"I'm more than thankful they don't tell me everything. I have a feeling everything we're finding out is just the tip of the iceberg. Dammit Gellert! I just defeated you! Ended your crazed idealizations towards muggles, and now I can't help but agree with them. _For the greater good." _Albus raised his glass before he downed the remains of his whiskey and left his glass by the stone railing leaving Gellert to his thoughts.

"_For the greater good indeed." _Gellert whispered in his own glass.

…

Draco was whistling while kneading some pastry concoction. His oxford shirt was folded up to his elbows, and despite his casual look he still look very much the Adonis he is. The woman sitting across the counter in the stool was chewing on some muggle pen. The sun entering from the pane windows make her glow like an ethereal goddess, her hair surrounding her like a halo.

They were like the beautiful flowers in the amazon, alluring and exquisite, bewitching anyone who comes near by.

"You know, we are not some entity that is out for prey." The witch said coolly, not even bothering to look up at the man who just entered the room. She kept on writing in one of her notebooks.

Gellert pushed himself away from the door frame to sit beside her. Albus did mention the witch could easily look into your mind, he was amazed the way she brush inside his head with no ceremony what so ever. Unlike last night where he was on guard and their blasé demeanor put him off, this morning he felt more rejuvenated and decided he should just throw caution to the wind and humor the two. It's not as if he could go anywhere, anyway.

"Hmm. You may not ravage like beasts, but you are still predators. Isn't that right my lady?" He cheekily said, the aroma of what the blonde was baking wafting his nose.

"Only if you are worth the swipe. Besides, I am not _your_ lady Mr. Grindelwald."

"I believe I already have that honor." The baker said with a smirk, he bent down to place a tray of chocolate confections in the oven.

"You know, I am quite surprised you wish to harm muggles. I just find it ironic, what with your parents I mean.." Gellert addressed the witch. However, Hermione just looked at him indifferently.

"I never said I wish to harm muggles." Her answer confuses him.

"Is that not what you were trying to tell us last night?" He raised his brow at her. He could see Draco was now leaning casually at the counter, his arms folded, paying their conversation no mind, picking at his well manicured nails.

"I hope you don't think that Albus' way of being a blood traitor and start to care for the _muggles_ is your way for solution. What do you plan to do? Bake them cookies and offer them smiles?" He said with a sneer. Draco just narrowed his eyes at the man, he decided the wizard does not deserve any of his baked goods.

"Mr. Grindelwald you like to presume all the time." She tutted.

"Tell me sir. In a household, who is considered the head of the family? The one who decides where the family lives, where or whether the children will go to school, the one who decides if they should eat factory produced food or organic harvest." The witch ceased her writing and faced the man before her.

"I will assume it's the father, but judging by your tone, you mean to tell me the mother controls the house and her husband?"

"Neither sir." She smiles at him.

"No, we would like to think it's the father who earns the income and the mother who raises the children are the head of the family. But no, they do not dictate their choices. We can however put finger to the father's boss, his employer, the men who are responsible for the families income. But still, they do not have complete control over the household. It could be the government or the big entrepreneurial companies, dictating them where to buy and what to buy, how to wear their clothes and when to buy the newest fad. Who to vote for, or which neighbor is the safest. However they are still not enough to fully control the family, not the one who dictates. Although, those muggle companies did have a good idea already on who controls the entire household.

In the end Mr. Grindelwald, all of them are just stooges to the true commander." Hermione started her cynicismic harangue.

"And who do you think is the commander here Ms. Granger?" He spat. The witch is very vague, and her monologues rival that of his and Albus'.

"Freedom sir. Freedom is the true commander. It is the idea of freedom that makes the father think he has actually the choice. Freedom is very powerful sir, it is what prompt the American's independence from Great Britain, the reason the Ottoman Empire retained control of Serbia. Freedom is what made the native Filipinos fight with their swords against the Spaniards' canyons and powdered guns.

To be able to provide that freedom for them, will you only be the true commander Mr. Grindelwald."

"You wish to be Gods?" He looked skeptical at her.

"You and Albus had the right idea sir. However your vision for the greater good was poorly executed. Love is more powerful than fear, punishing a child with a heavy hand will just make them rebel more. We will not be Caesar and be stabbed in the back by our friends, we will not allow the muggles and those not in the know be Brutus. You will not get to play a dictator in our play. No, you will be the face of love, of peace, of the new tomorrow. Vivaldi Seditio! Vivaldi Magia!" Who was he kidding, the witch has a more silver tongue than any snake he knew.

"And how do you propose this Ms. Granger? I am not exactly the face of freedom." He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Your folder Mr. Grindelwald." She beamed a smile at him and hands him a very colorful set of folders.

"Besides Mr. Grindelwald, if you have tasted Draco's cookies, you might just surrender to him. These are just divine you know." She winked at him.

He bites of the offending treat. And Merlin be damned, it was actually good he had to close his eyes.

...

Young Tom was throwing pebbles at the beach, observing as each pebble skip over the surface of the water. The water was calm today, which made the day all the more perfect. He just have to wait for Mrs. Cole to go to the nearby liquor store, the one where she gets a discount for her monthly stocks for _servicing_ the service boy. He is more than ready to swim to his cave.

A group of older boy approach him, a sneer was firmly placed in the face of their honorary leader. Michael, or Martin, he was not really sure and he didn't care. It was always like this, these filth trying to demonstrate power over him. As if they could.

"Has your arm healed Michael? Or was it Martin? Hmm.. It doesn't matter. Are you here to tell me you fancy the Nurse at the orphanage?" He looked up from his position, the boys stopped in their tracks when he addressed them.

"I don't get what you 'mean!" The boy shouted at him.

"Of course you don't. I have met animals far smarter than you." The boys was starting to turn purple, and he wonders what other color he could make out of him. The others in the group are all glaring at him, but the smallest of them all was regarding him with suspicions. '_Atleast that one seem to have a brain.'_

"It's just that you seem to have a knack for visiting the infirmary. You know you can go directly to her. You don't have to go to me to have her attention." The boys seem to understand his under handed threat and left him alone.

With the boys gone and Mrs. Cole out of the view he swims for the cave.

It was not a far swim, especially on these days when the water decided to be calm. It was like the cave was waiting for him today. When he emerged from the water he wished he could dry himself magically. His efforts at wandless is getting quite hard, he could only levitate a few things, inflict a sting of pain, but other than that more complex spells and casts leave him drained. He can't wait to be of age to have the unnecessary trace in his wand. He was thankful, however, that despite difficulty at wandless magic he still has other _tricks _up his sleeve. He later found out that being able to read people's thoughts naturally is a unique trait only a true Legillimens can do. Tom was sure Dumbledore did that to him when he came for his letter. So he decided to master Occlumency, however you cannot really test your talent at the skill if you have no one to trust to look into your head.

Once he entered the cave he noticed an eagle perched at one of the higher stalagmites. It's intelligent gaze makes him realize it was a magical bird.

"You've been watching me. Who is your master bird?" He slowly walked towards the bird and tried to reach out his hands to stroke it. But at the last minute he decided to channel his magic to inflict pain. His success at hurting it made him a little breathy, and the bird flew far away from him after concluding he was a threat.

But instead of flying out of the cave, it flew deeper in. And there in the gut of the cave he saw two figures standing. The bird perched itself on a tall man and to his left a petite woman, both had mahogany locks almost as brown and dark as his. Trace be damned, Tom clutch his wand tight. Taking mental notes of all the defensive and dirty curses he knows. He was resolved to know if threat is imminent and decided to read their minds, but one of them talked before he could even do anything.

"That was not nice Tom. You hurt Achilla" He heard the melodic voice of the witch. He could see them clearly now, they dressed in pristine summer robes, clearly of affluent status. The man had silver eyes that was uncannily familiar, but the eyes of the witch before him made his throat go dry. They were like pools of gold and hazel, flashing with such brilliance and knowledge. They burn like firewhiskey to your soul, and he had to take a double look if what he is seeing was true.

"Who are you? I'm not stupid, I know that bird has been watching over me for some time now. What do you want from me?" He asked menacingly, he never like to be caught off guard.

"No, not stupid at all. You are actually very bright, talented, and special. But you already know that, don't you Tom?" It took her a while to answer him, she just looked at him with those wide eyes of her like as if she's trying to read him. Tom had to clamped down on his Occlumens, not entirely sure if it's working.

"I suggest you get on with it love. He is a slytherin after all and they don't want to play a lion's game." The man said. His smirk disturbs the boy deeply.

The witch walks towards him. He does not move or flinch away. If they wanted to hurt him they have done so already. Perhaps the couple know who he is, that he is the heir of Slytherin.

When Hermione was just a few feet away from Tom, careful to invade his personal space. She asked him a question that took him by surprise.

"What do you think of muggleborns Tom?" Tom remained unperturbed. He pauses to think that maybe they are blood supremacist, but he has to play his cards close.

"They are filth, a low excuse for human beings. Muggles are nothing but a bunch of greedy miscreants. They are cruel to one another, they kick anyone who they perceive as low status. They are blinkered by their dogmas, worryingly close-minded. And most of them are just hypocrites who are vain and overconfident." He was surprised by the passion of his hate, but it is not without reason. Tom has been mistreated and alienated in the orphanage, treated as a freak. And even his muggle father neglected and disowned him.

"Hmm, sounds awfully familiar. That was a lot of adjectives Tom. However you did not answer me. What. About. _Muggleborns_?" Tom was bewildered. It seems that did not answer her question.

Tom knew then he had to tread carefully.

"I.. I think they do not live to their full potential." He started slowly. "That they drag their simple minds into ludicrous behavior and are sluggishly lackadaisical. They disregard the customs and tradition of the wizarding world and feed their ignorance with frivolous endeavors. The do not even bother to study the art of magic, thinking they could live in both worlds. They lower themselves to stupidity and weakness." He said impassively, his voice devoid of emotions. He didn't know who they are, but they have already cornered him in the cave. His honesty might set him free.

"I am a muggleborn. Do you think I'm weak Tom? A simpleton who lowers myself to stupidity and weakness?"

"I don't know who you are." He said simply.

"But I know you." She smiled at the boy. Tom maybe 15 but he's just as tall as the witch before him, the man he was not sure he could handle. But her...

His tightened jaw and hardened eyes were the only sign of his disgruntled state. He tried reading her again, especially now they are closer, but he see's nothing as he stares into her eyes. He was right though, it did have flecks of gold in it. He decided to wait for her to speak again, anything he say might be taken against him.

"Have you opened the chamber yet Tom?" The witch asked casually. He inhaled too sharply, and his eyes widen a bit.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said firmly.

"Let's stop pretending we're all stupid here Tom. Have you opened the Chamber, Heir of Slytherin?" She drags out the his title. Made it sound like she was mocking him, insulting his very heritage, his right.

"You're just a mudblood scum! Why should I answer to you?!" He did not bother hiding his disdain.

"And you think you're special?" The witch was unperturbed. Her cool demeanor still in place, for a Slytherin he sure was floundering.

"Salazar's blood flows in mine. I am his rightful heir! The chamber is rightfully mine!" Tom's voice was getting louder now, his anger showing.

"That just make you have a famous ancestor with your very own man-cave."

"So what do you want to do? Stop me from pursuing what my ancestors did? Change my mind? Kill me?" He looked murderous. Tom's wand hand was already turning paler as his grip tightens. He will handle the ministry if needed, but now he must be prepared to fight or flee.

"No Tom. I'm actually here to give you a present." Her cryptic approach makes him wary. Tom looked at her like as if she was mad, grew another head, and started spitting fire.

"Oh no, my boy! That runs in my side of the family. She's completely sane… well as sane as Hermione could be." '_So that's her name.' _Tom realized too that his Occlumency was not in place.

"What present then?" He tried to humor the witch.

"I have two, but you can only choose one."

"What makes you think I will even like it, let alone choose one?"

"Because you have no choice." Her voice cold and unearthly. For a second Tom felt a flicker of fear.

He couldn't trust his voice so he just nods at the witch, indicating her to continue.

Hermione couldn't smile any brighter, he beamed at the boy. At least he was willing to listen. She waved her hand and suddenly two figures tied to a chair appear to his side, their faces distorted by a black fog. He couldn't recognize them, but he knows they are male with a tall frame. Their robes clue him in that they are wizards.

"Are you to make me choose one of them?" He asked incredulously.

"Oh no, you're mistaken Tom. They are just part of your first choice."

His eyes narrowed at the witch, she was being very vague. But he didn't dare oppose her, clearly she was powerful. Wandless and wordless disillusionment clearly shows she's powerful enough.

"See Tom, I offer these two for you.." She gestures to the two figures who seem to be frozen by vine-like bindings.

He looks at her hesitantly but the witch continued her offer.

"And I'll throw these little trinkets for fun." She levitates a necklace and a tiara in front of him.

"You want me to choose between the two men or jewelry? I'm not a fan of either." He frowned his dismay, he was starting to get really confused and antsy towards her.

"No Tom. I offer you immortality." She smiles fiendishly at him, hey eyes gleamed with mania. He felt like all the air from his lungs were seized. He was skeptical with what she's saying, but he has already let her talk too much, perhaps he should let her finish with her proposal.

"This…" Hermione levitates the necklace infront of his face. He could make up a familiar seal. "… is your ancestor's heirloom. Salazar's seal emblazoned in the locket. You can open it with parseltongue, one of your _many talents_ right?" She smirked at him. He was watchful of her. Hermione levitated the other artifact in front of him. "And this is Ravenclaw's Diadem. A tiara said to grant wisdom to the wearer."

He couldn't believe the witch was offering him two of Hogwarts Founder's heirlooms. He couldn't help but look hungrily at the _trinkets_ she said was his gift.

"Now with these items Tom, you can make your very own Horcrux."

Tom's eyes widen, he started backing away from the witch. Clearly she was insane.

"I.. I don't know what you're talking about." But of course he does, didn't he just ask Professor Slu...

"Let's not play dumb dumb Tom. We both know you have fatten up Slughorn with those candied pineapples."

Tom's breathing became erratic. It was just per chance he came across a book in the restricted section, Magic Moste Evile. It was the most enlightening read, the possibility of immortality. But Tom has always been power hungry and an over achiever, why stop one when you can do seven. And here the witch is already presenting him the chance to make two. She makes her offer sound like she's just giving him candy.

"And what is the other gift?" He had to ask. What more could she possibly offer that is better than the power to be unstoppable, to be immortal. Yet he only saw her smile wider, as if she's truly happy for not jumping right away at the first choice.

"You become our friend Tom." Here the young wizard couldn't stop from scoffing at her preposterous offer. How could being friends with them be greater than avoiding death. What would he accept their friendship, once he is in power and rule over the wizarding world people will beg for his. But the witch does not falter, her smile still in place. It's like she's convinced her friendship is more powerful, that it will give him unbelievable strength and freedom like never before. What could friendship with her mean.

"What do I get from this friendship?" He asks with trepidation.

"You never disappoint Tom. Always the slytherin to ask what you will gain first." She actually look amused, the boys is slytherin thru and thru.

"If you choose our friendship, you will have our loyalty as you will give us yours. We will love you like a true friend and you should know that I _always_ protect what is mine. We will show you what being friends with me and my husband can _truly _offer."

"That sounds very ambiguous. I don't even know who you are."

"Oh forgive my manners Tom, you just got us over excited is all. My name's Hermione, and my husband over there is Draco. But you have to choose now, Mrs. Cole will be back soon." The witch was a cheerful one, that's for sure.

"So what is it Tom. Will you choose immortality or our loyalty?" Her eyes bore into his. Tom was out of sorts, he was confused, and he couldn't believe he is even weighing his options. Immortality is powerful, but their friendship… What does that even mean.

"Just a reminder Tom. You cannot make a Horcrux once you choose our friendship." And again the witch has successfully made him unsure of his decision, so he decided to approach her differently.

"Who are they?"

"Hmm? Oh them. They are just some old wizards who have no right to live. Whichever you choose they will never leave the cave alive. They are in debt to magic, have betrayed and disrespected it, magic has come to collect."

"You will kill them if I don't?" He asks incredulously.

"Yes." She simply said, he smile soft and angelic. As if she's not admitting something as sinister as murder.

In truth Tom has never killed before. He has hurt small animals and the other children in the orphanage before, but he has not crossed the line of such crime. Now that he thinks about it, could he really split his soul for immortality.

"I have to choose don't I?" He said softly.

"Yes Tom. You cannot walk away from the cave without choosing."

"Mrs. Cole will be back soon. I don't think I'll have the time for the ritual."

"Oh don't you worry yourself Tom. I can help you with that." He was flummoxed, the witch just winked at him. But his confusion didn't last long. Droplets of water from the cave ceiling freeze mid air, the waves crashing the stone entrance of the cave has become motionless. He could see the seagulls remain suspended in the sky, their wings stretched out and unmoving. He hears no noise, not even the distant screams and laughter of the children at the beach. Never mind that the witch did it wandlessly, she just stopped time. Something no one can possibly do. He knows the theory about Time-Turners, but they are just that, devices that can return you for some period of time. NOT completely stop it.

He looks at the couple with new eyes. The man behind has remained silent, stroking the eagle with such care. Draco, as she said to him, just looked at him with a knowing smile. Like he simply knows that he has already made a choice.

"I would like to be your friend Hermione." He was not bothered when she hugged him so tight he could barely breathe. And when she smiled at him again, he returned it without trepidation.

"We will become best of friends Tom!" After their moment, she turned her back from him and faced the two men. He almost forgot they were there. The men had rugged looking faces, their hair disheveled and he could swear a smear of blood is at the corner of the lip of the one who seems younger. There was nothing special about them, they looked ordinary, and if he was honest, they are quite hideous. But when he meets the stare of one of the men, he was hit with sudden realization. The men had the same dark green eyes as his.

Their crazed eyes were glaring murderously at Hermione, but when the older one turned his attention towards him, disgust and anger was clear on his face. Any reservations he had for the two gone. Hermione said they have betrayed magic, and he trusts whatever judgement she has for them.

"Marvolo and Morfin Gaunt. You both have betrayed magic. You abused your power and in your vain you have done nothing but squalor in poverty. You corrupted innocent Merope which rendered her a squib. Instead of flourishing and bear more fruit for the House of Gaunt you sully yourself within your family. You have violated the true purity of magic. _And for that we have come to collect_." Tom sees Hermione's eyes has turned as black as onyx, the veins around it spread like a spider's web.

"You do not scare me!" Marvolo spit at her feet. "And you! You are just a filthy halfblood! As weak and pathetic as your mother! Sullying herself with muggles." He sneered with open disgust. "It was laughable to see how she tried to poison that disgusting muggle to fuck her. You are the just the sad result of their gruesome union boy!"

"Kill them Hermione." He said, devoid of emotion, his voice cold and dismissive.

"Of course Tom, you are our friend now and I will not let anyone hurt you." Even with blackened eyes, her smile still looked warm.

Hermione faces them once more, she closes one of her hand into a tight fist. The vines that wrapped around them tighten, burning their skin to the very bones. And when she had enough of their screams and protest, she controlled the sharp edge of the vines to stab through their very eyes, mouth, stomach, and heart. The two slump in their seats, a sure sign they were dead. When Hermione waved her hand again, the two figures were reduced to ash.

"Would you like to meet our other friends Tom?" She draped her arm in his shoulder, the other hand holding his hand leading him towards her husband. Tom just nods his reply, he's quite excited to meet people like her.

When he took a look at the husband again he was surprised to see that he was not alone. He was in the middle of two other men. One was clearly Gellert Grindelwald and the other Professor Dumbledore, genuinely smiling at him.

Then all of them disappeared from the cave without ceremony.

The waves started crashing, the squawking of seagulls echoes the cave, and there were droplets of water coming from the cave's ceiling again. Mrs. Cole assembles all the children back in the bus. She make sure everyone is settled in their seats. Satisfied that not a kid was out of place, she orders the bus to head back to the Orphanage. She tucks the list of the children's names in her bag, not realizing that Tom's name has been removed. But it doesn't matter, because she will never remember that she is missing one.

…

…

**AN: **I feel like this chapter has turned into a more grim setting. Hermione seems more sinister and it's quite uncharacteristic of her to just kill of two men infront of a minor. I promise there are reasons for their lack of empathy. Tom also is just a boy, but let's not forget that the kid never felt remorse or other emotions in his life. Witnessing death for him doesn't leave any traumatizing impact. But look on the bright side, he chose friendship over making Horcruxes. Anyway nothing is mine but plot. I hope you like this chapter!

Translations:

_Dolus Videre - _Trick of the Eye  
_Vivaldi Seditio! Vivaldi Magia_ \- Viva Revolution! Viva Magic!

…

Jusqu'à la prochaine fois!


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